


Will You Remember Me

by jesileigh, latinasmoak



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Smut, season 7, spec fic, trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-03-07 13:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13436049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesileigh/pseuds/jesileigh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/latinasmoak/pseuds/latinasmoak
Summary: After being attacked by a metahuman with the power to steal memories, Felicity learns that a lot can happen in six years. Even things that she once believed to be unthinkable.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been floating around in my brain for MONTHS, but recently my dear Alejandra aka @latinasmoak came to visit for Heroes and Villains Portland and we spiraled together in my car. The muse was reawakened! 
> 
> Huge thanks to her for helping me plot this out and for the encouragement. Thanks to @dolbowmaria and @smoakprince for the beta and @muslimsmoak for sending accusatory, vaguely threatening texts to @latinasmoak on my behalf.

_ Felicity is doing her best to remain calm, summoning all of the bravery she can muster. She’d made a promise to Oliver, after all-- if you’re not leaving, I’m not leaving. If he could be out there, risking his life to save others’, she could be here watching over him as he, Dig and the detective do their best to stop Malcolm and evacuate the Glades. She jumps when another shelf tips over behind her, sending Oliver’s arrows crashing and rolling all over the concrete floor. Detective Lance’s frantic voice interrupts her thoughts over the comms as he yells, _

_ “I turned the damn thing off!” Sirens and screams and the sounds of pure chaos come through over the headset as she replies. _

_ “Merlyn had a second device.” She lets out a sob as she shrinks deeper into her chair, dust and concrete falling all around her as the building shakes, threatening to fall right on top of her. Her fingers grip her desk until her knuckles turn white. _

_ “Laurel!” Lance shouts. “She’s at CNRI!” _

_ She doesn’t wait to hear if he says anything else, instead she switches back to the channel she shares with Dig and Oliver, just hoping she’ll hear their voices.  _

_ “Oliver?” she manages, her voice wavering. She’s so worried--so scared at the prospect of never hearing his voice in her ear again. So when he almost instantly replies, she bursts into tears of relief. _

_ “Are you okay?” he asks her. Her heart nearly skips a beat at his concern for her safety.  _

_ “Yeah,” she whimpers, jumping again when there’s another small explosion that causes sparks to fly behind her. She takes a few shaky breaths, attempting to calm down enough to talk again. Finally she focuses on her computer screen. There’s a job to be done; people to help.  _

_ “The damage seems to be contained on the East side. Past Wells street.”  _

_ “Laurel,” Oliver says under his breath. The comms go silent and Felicity flinches as a large chunk of concrete falls from above her. _

_ “Help!” she cries out. “Oliver? Please--I’m scared.” _

_ The last thing she remembers is a sharp pain in her head as everything goes dark. _

 

>>>\----------------------------->

 

_ “Felicity?”  _

_ “I don’t know if she can hear you, we’ve been trying to wake her up for an hour now.” _

_ “Do you know who attacked her?” _

_ “A metahuman. But I’ve never seen him before and we don’t have a record of him at STAR Labs yet. I’m not sure what he whammied her with.” _

_ “You need to track him down now, Barry.” _

_ “I’m on it. Let me know when she comes to?” _

_ “We’ll call you.” _

 

The lights are far too bright when she opens her eyes, and everything is blurry. It takes her a moment to realize it’s because her glasses are missing from her face. She blinks a few times and rubs her eyes and that’s when everything hits her: the earthquake. The falling debris from the building crumbling around her. 

“What happened?” she asks groggily. “Did you stop Malcolm? Did you make it to CNRI to check on Laurel?” she makes a move to sit up but her head is throbbing and she suddenly feels nauseous and dizzy.

“Felicity, hey,” she hears a soothing voice and feels a hand on her back as someone presses her glasses into her hand. “Take it easy.” She puts her glasses on and blinks owlishly when she realizes it’s Oliver’s arm around her, helping her lean back against a stack of pillows. 

“Ol’ver?” she asks, her words slightly slurred. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

“We’re in the bunker,” he explains. “You’re safe.” His voice is so calm and soft that it’s oddly jarring to her, but she’s too disoriented to spend too much time attempting to understand why. 

“The foundry?” she asks. “You came back for me? Did you make it in time to get Laurel out?” She sees Oliver’s head tilt to the side and his brow contort in confusion.

“The foundry? Laurel?” he repeats. “Hon, we haven’t used the foundry in years. And Laurel--” Felicity shakes her head. Now it’s her turn to look at him like he’s the crazy one. “Hey, easy,” Oliver reminds her, trying to keep her from getting up. 

“What are you talking abou--” she stops abruptly and looks Oliver up and down suspiciously for a moment. “Wait, did you just call me hon?” He opens his mouth to reply, but Dig clasps his shoulder and stops him.

“Felicity, what’s the last thing you remember?” he asks curiously.

“I was in the foundry during the earthquake. There was debris falling everywhere--I... I must have been knocked out.” She feels her stomach sink at the look Oliver and Dig share at that. “What? What’s wrong?” she asks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“The Undertaking was six years ago, Felicity,” Dig explains grimly. Felicity takes a sharp breath and shakes her head. 

“That’s impossible,” she insists, her chest heaving with the breaths that are coming quicker and quicker as his words sink in. “Six...six years ago?” She looks to Oliver, thinking perhaps he’ll offer some kind of contrary opinion or clue her into the really mean joke they’re clearly playing on her right now. But he just nods slowly, confirming what Dig has said. 

“You really don’t remember anything after that?” Oliver asks. He sounds almost devastated at the prospect. Felicity closes her eyes tightly and thinks, willing the memories to come back to her. All she gets is nothingness, followed by a sharp pain behind her eyes that causes her to whimper. 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” she cries. “Are you trying to tell me that six years of my life are just-- _ poof _ gone? Like...like wiping a hard drive or something?” 

“Hey, hey it’s okay--take a breath,” Oliver says gently. His arms wrap around her and he pulls her against his chest. She stiffens at that and he must sense her discomfort because he jumps back like he’s been burned. “S--sorry,” he apologizes awkwardly. Felicity’s eyes narrow at him in absolute bewilderment. 

“Maybe you should call Barry and Cisco,” Dig suggests. Oliver looks at Felicity and then back to Dig before nodding. 

“Yeah, I uh...I’ll just go do that,” he agrees. His gaze lingers on Felicity for a long moment before he pulls out his phone and walks away, disappearing around the corner. 

“How are you feeling?” Dig asks her once Oliver is gone.

“Dizzy. A little nauseous. And my head is pounding,” she informs him. “What happened to me?” Dig begins to examine her--feeling the back of her head for bumps, shining a light in her eyes to check her pupils and then taking her pulse as he explains.

“A metahuman attacked you--”

“What’s a metahuman?” she interrupts.

“A few years back there was an accident in Central City. Particle accelerator blew up and gave a bunch of people all different kinds of superhuman abilities. Some people--like our friends at STAR Labs--use their abilities for good. Others, like the one who attacked you, well…”

“You’re telling me there are actual real life superheroes out there now? Like...like Thor and Hulk and Captain America?” Felicity deadpans. Dig shrugs like he’d never actually thought about it that way before. 

“Would that make Oliver some kind of Hawkeye then?” he laughs as he packs up the medical supplies and puts them back into the cart near the end of her bed. 

“I always saw him as Tony Stark. Tortured billionaire trying to right his father’s wrongs, using his money to become a vigilante and all that... Which would make me Pepper Potts, obviously--” Felicity cuts herself off and her eyes go wide as she begins to babble. “-- _ not _ that I think Oliver and I would end up together or like--I mean we’re clearly just platonic and not--he doesn’t think of me like--I didn’t mean--I’m just going to stop talking now.”

She’s too busy covering her tomato-red face to see the knowing smirk on Diggle’s face.

“Well it doesn’t seem like you have a concussion. There’s just the memory loss. Oliver’s on the phone with the Central City crew to update them and then they can help us track down the guy that did this to you. Most of the members of that team are metahumans. It’s almost exclusively what they deal with, though we’ve had a handful of them here in Star City over the years.” He notices how Felicity’s nose wrinkles up at that. “Right--we’re called Star City now, not Starling. It’s a long story,” he says.

“I guess a lot can change in six years,” Felicity notes wistfully and Dig whistles.

“You have  _ no  _ idea, Felicity.” 

 

“Hey,” Oliver greets them when he comes back into the room. “I let Barry know what’s going on and they’ve got their team out hunting this guy down. Hopefully they’ll have him in custody soon and we can figure out how to reverse this.” He pauses and moves closer to Felicity, reaching to take her hand in his. She’s confused by his proximity and how weirdly affectionate he’s being with her, but she doesn’t question it. “I’m sorry this is happening. But I promise you we’re going to fix it.”

“Oliver’s right,” Dig agrees, squeezing her shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

“Do you think you’ll be okay here for a little while?” Oliver asks. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but I do have to run and take care of something really quick, and then I can come back for you.” Felicity glances from Oliver to Dig and back again. 

“I think I can manage,” she assures him. Oliver doesn’t look totally convinced, but he sends a look to Dig who nods. 

“I’ll keep an eye on her until you get back.”

“I just need to run to City Hall. I promise I’ll be back in less than an hour.” Felicity nods timidly and freezes when Oliver leans in to press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll see you soon,” he promises. Before she can ask, he’s gone again and it’s Dig she’s looking at in utter confusion.

“Okay seriously who  _ is _ that guy and what has he done with Oliver Queen?” Felicity hisses as soon as she’s sure Oliver can’t hear her anymore. Dig just chuckles and shakes his head at her, taking a seat in a chair opposite the gurney she’s seated on.

“I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about,” Dig insists. 

“Why is he acting so weird? What happened?” Felicity persists. 

“Like you said, a lot can change in six years, Felicity. And I’m sure the two of you will be having quite the conversation tonight,” he adds cryptically. 

“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?” she asks, frustrated. 

“That depends on what you want to know,” he counters. “Some things would just be better coming from Oliver, I think.” 

 

Felicity nearly pouts at that, her arms crossing over her chest. So much of what was happening was a mystery. And she  _ hated _ mysteries. 

“Why does he have to go to City Hall?” she finally asks. 

“It’s where his office is,” Dig tells her. “He’s the mayor.” 

“He’s the  _ what _ ?!” she asks incredulously.

“He’s in his second term and has the highest approval rating in the history of Star City.” Felicity blinks in silence for a moment, letting that sink in. 

“You’re joking.”

“I’m really not,” Dig insists. Felicity shakes her head in wonder. “Listen, I know you have a lot of questions, but there is a lot that you should hear from him. Why don’t you get some rest? Oliver will be back in a little while and we can catch you up.” 

She wants to argue with him, but her head still hurts quite a bit. Instead, she sighs and lays back on the pillows, allowing Dig to toss a blanket over her. It only takes a few moments before her eyes fall closed and she’s drifting off to sleep.

 

John makes it to the other side of the bunker before he answers the phone, just to make sure he’s out of Felicity’s earshot.

“Oliver, she just fell asleep again.”  
“Is she okay?” Oliver asks, his worry evident even over the phone.

“She’s confused and probably in shock, but her vitals are fine. What’s your plan for catching her up with everything that’s happened since 2013 without giving the poor woman a heart attack?” he asks with a chuckle. He can almost see the unamused face Oliver is definitely wearing on the other end of the phone.

“I’ll ease her into it,” Oliver tells him. “I just hope Barry and Cisco find a solution quickly.”

“They will, man,” John assures him. “Just try not to worry too much, okay?”

“She’s my wife, John. My wife who doesn’t even remember falling in love with me, let alone marrying me. If it was Lyla, you’d be worried too.”

“I know, Oliver. But panicking isn’t going to help Felicity. We need to stay calm, for her.”

“I’m doing my best. Thank you for keeping an eye on her. I just have to get William to Thea’s place and I’ll come back for her. Hopefully by then I’ll have some kind of an idea about how to tell my wife we’re married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally Felicity's memories were supposed to go back to the Mirakuru siege in season two. However, after watching the majority of the Olicity scenes throughout season two, I realized they were already touchy-feely, flirty-flirty by like...the third episode of that season. So I had to go back to season one to get them to a place where Felicity would have felt awkward and confused by Oliver's affection and touches. Talk about endgame.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver drives Felicity home and fills her in about a few things that have happened in the past six years.

The first five minutes of their drive is completely silent in that entirely too awkward, heavy kind of way. The kind of silence reserved for moments where there’s far too much to say but nobody wants to dive in and say it. It’s the kind of silence you don’t expect to have with a person you know intimately in ways of the body, mind and soul. The weight of it feels like a vise around Oliver’s chest, squeezing until it’s hard for him to breathe.

 

He knows it’s ridiculous to be this anxious about just being around Felicity. She’s his  _ wife _ for God’s sake. His wife. Who doesn’t know she’s his wife. Because that’s what life has come to lately. What he wouldn’t give for a good old fashioned Bertinelli mobster or a Vertigo dealer right about now. Metahumans are so far out of his wheelhouse it’s ridiculous.  But here they are. Sitting in silence as Oliver drums his fingers on the steering wheel to drown out the cacophony of nothingness while he rehearses in his head how he’s going to tell Felicity that--oh, by the way, we’re  _ married _ now. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t purposely linger a little longer than necessary at Thea and Roy’s before heading back to the bunker. 

 

_ “So she doesn’t remember  _ anything _?” Thea asks.  _

_ “Nothing since the Undertaking,” Oliver confirms. _

_ “So...she doesn’t know the two of you are--” Roy begins, and Oliver shakes his head and Roy whistles, shaking his head dramatically. _

_ “Nope. It’s like the last six years never happened. I have no idea where to even start with telling her everything.” He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. _

_ “Well you just focus on her. My nephew and I have lots of junk food to eat and cheesy horror movies to watch.” Oliver raises an eyebrow in disapproval at that, but Thea continues as though oblivious to his discontent. “And we’ll make sure he gets to camp tomorrow,” Thea assures her brother, her hand coming to rest on his arm. “Although, you may want to tell her about your son before she finds out from a super villain this time.” Oliver fixes her with a thoroughly unamused glare. _

_ “Too soon, babe,” Roy playfully chastises, poking her in the side with an elbow.  _

_ “You’ll figure it out, big brother,” Thea insists, cupping Oliver’s cheek in her hand. “You always do. This is hardly the worst situation the two of you have been in in the last few years.” _

 

In the end it’s Felicity who breaks the silence first. Of course it is. Nobody hates awkward silence as much as his wife, nor does anyone attempt so wholeheartedly to fill that silence.

“Th-thank you,” she stutters, her voice jarring him from his racing thoughts. He turns to look at her and his confusion must be evident because she lets go of the lip she’s gnawing on to clarify, “For the ride home, I mean.”

“Oh,” Oliver says with a stilted nod. “Right. Yeah...of course.”

 

Felicity pulls her bottom lip back between her teeth, and resumes staring out the window. As Oliver slows to a stop at a red light he notices the way she’s wringing her hands in her lap like she doesn’t know what else to do with them. He has to stop himself when he instinctively reaches out to take hers in his own. He takes a left when the light turns green and jumps when Felicity blurts out,

“Wait!”

 

Oliver nearly slams on the brakes, his arm immediately shooting out to keep Felicity from flying forward, and he scans the area for the unknown threat before turning to see her bashful face.

“My apartment’s the other way,” she says in a quiet voice, looking a bit guilty. Oliver takes a deep breath to calm himself down and then continues down the side street.

“Actually you don’t live there anymore,” he explains.

“I don’t?” she asks, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, not since we--since  _ you _ \--you moved a few years ago,” he finally manages.

“Oh,” Felicity says, sinking back into her seat again and nodding silently. Oliver makes the next few turns without another protest, but as soon as he turns into their neighborhood, Felicity shifts anxiously in the seat beside him.

“Are you sure you’re going the right way?” she asks. “Because unless I’m more than just an IT girl now, there’s no way I can afford this neighborhood.”

Oliver chuckles at that, watching out of the corner of his eye as she takes in the row of houses and boutiques lining the quiet, well-lit street several blocks from their building.

“As a matter of fact,” Oliver begins, slowing as they start to pass through the park. “You’re not an IT girl anymore.” Felicity whips around to look at him, silently urging him to go on. “If you look out your window and find the old Q.C. building--”

“Wait,” Felicity interrupts. “ _ Old _ Q.C. building?”

“Yes, well, business management was never really my thing. It’s a long story, rife with betrayal and hostile takeovers and losing the family fortune,” he chuckles. “But it worked out for the best. Take a look.” He rolls down her window and points, Felicity following his finger. They come to a clearing in the park where the trees no longer obscure the view of the Star City skyline and Felicity audibly gasps when she sees what he’s pointing at.

“Smoak...Technologies?” she reads, her voice unsure. Oliver brings the car to a stop near the curb and turns to take her in. She has a hand over her mouth and her blue eyes are wide with wonder as she stares at the giant glowing sign on the horizon. “But...why is my name on that building?” she asks him, like she can’t possibly allow herself to believe it without him saying it first.

“Well, it’s pretty common to put the name of the person who started the company on the building,” Oliver teases, smiling at her. Felicity turns back to look again, leaning forward in her seat. Her fingers grip the the window frame until her knuckles turn white.

“I own my own company?” she says breathlessly.

“You own your own company,” Oliver insists. “Funny enough,  _ you’re _ actually the billionaire in this relationship now.” Felicity takes a breath and nearly chokes on it, looking at him like he’s grown another head as he hastily corrects himself. “Er...I mean...that’s not to say that--”

“Usually I’m the one speaking in sentence fragments,” Felicity says, and now she’s teasing him back. He feels the vice around his chest loosen the tiniest bit. That is, until her eyes go wide in fear and her jaw drops. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“You said you lost Q.C. because of betrayal and a hostile takeover--” she says and it’s suddenly clear that she thinks he was talking about  _ her _ . 

“It wasn’t you,” he insists, reaching to grab her hand. He notices the way she almost jerks away from him, but after a second she settles into his touch. “It was bought out before you started your company. You took it back, actually, and I could not possibly be more proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished. As of last month, you are the most successful woman in tech under the age of thirty in the  _ world _ , Felicity.”

Felicity’s lower lip trembles and her eyes fill with tears, her free hand coming back to cover her mouth again as she tries to wrap her head around what he’s saying to her. He offers her a smile and squeezes the hand he’s holding. 

“I can’t believe it,” she says on a wet laugh, wiping the tears off of her cheeks with her arm. “Just... _ wow _ ...did you say  _ billion _ aire?”

“I did. And you deserve it,” Oliver insists. “You’ve worked so hard to get here.” 

“Not bad for the daughter of a Vegas cocktail waitress, huh?” she asks in that self-deprecating tone that used to kill him whenever she’d use it. It’s been years since she’s been anything but entirely confident in herself and it’s a stark reminder of just how much she’s changed in six years. 

Oliver puts the car back into drive and pulls away from the curb, making his way closer to their building, though he’s still no closer to telling her about their relationship. He’s really not sure how much longer he can avoid it, though.

“What about you?” Felicity asks on a sniffle. “Dig said you’re the mayor now?”

“I am,” Oliver confirms. “Crazy, right?” Felicity laughs at that.

“I have to say that’s probably the  _ most _ unbelievable thing you guys have told me so far.” Oliver raises his eyebrows at that and she backpedals instantly. “I mean--that’s not--I’m sure you’re great--”

“I understand your disbelief,” Oliver assures her with a wink. He smiles when he sees her cheeks go red as she squirms in her seat.

“So when you aren’t running the city or saving the city what do you do these days?” she asks, changing the subject quickly. 

“Uh...well,” he blows out a breath and considers his options. He settles on, “Mostly I just spend time with my son.”

“Your--you have a son?” Felicity sputters. 

“I do. His name is William. He’s almost 14 now.” He watches her do some quick math out of the corner of his eye. “I found out about him when he was about ten. When his mom died a couple of years ago he came to live with me.”

“Wow,” Felicity says--and that’s a word he’s heard out of her mouth more tonight than ever before. “You’re a  _ dad _ .”

“He’s pretty great,” Oliver says proudly. “And the two of you? You’re thick as thieves.” Felicity tilts her head at that. 

“Really?” she asks. 

“Oh yeah,” he insists. “He’s brilliant. Especially when it comes to math and science. You started helping him with his homework when he first came to live with me and you two hit it off instantly. He and I kind of had a rocky start to our relationship but then you came along and...well I definitely couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Felicity is blushing again and she tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. 

“But what about your wife?” she asks, and he nearly chokes on his tongue. She must notice his panic because she nods towards his hand. “I just--I saw your ring.”

“Right. My ring,” he says, the metal band suddenly feeling very heavy on his finger.

“Did you and Laurel--” Felicity begins, and Oliver cuts her off immediately.

“ _ No! _ God...no. No that--that was--that was never going to...happen.” Felicity looks taken aback by his outburst. “We just...there was too much toxic history there,” he explains, and Felicity nods like she understands. “Besides, Laurel uh...she died a few years ago.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Felicity gasps. “I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s okay. She...she died fighting to protect the city. She died like a hero.” 

 

The car falls silent again as he makes the final turn into their parking garage, the door sliding closed behind them. Felicity clears her throat after a long moment.

“She must be pretty special--your wife, I mean,” she clarifies. “To have convinced you that you deserve to be happy instead of living out the rest of your life alone.” Oliver feels a lump form in his throat at that and he swallows it, tears forming in his eyes. 

“You have no idea,” he tells her, pulling into a parking spot. He takes a deep breath and sighs, looking at her with a smile. “She’s...she’s remarkable.” 

 

Felicity quirks her head at him, like she’s trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. After a moment she just shakes her head, though, and reaches for the door handle.

“So...this is the place, huh?” she asks. Oliver kills the engine and pulls the keys from the ignition, opening his own door as Felicity climbs out of the car.

“Yup--top floor. Private elevator.” She turns to look at him, making a face that says ‘not bad’. “We just have to go through here,” he directs her, opening the door for her. She pauses, hesitating just on the outside of the threshold. 

“You don’t...you don’t have to walk me up,” she insists. “I’m sure you’d like to get home to your family and--wait--do I have a key?” she starts to pat down the pockets of her pants, frowning when she doesn’t find anything in them. Oliver just chuckles as he ushers her inside the stairwell and pushes the button for the elevator.

“I have a key, don’t worry,” he assures her. That makes her eyebrows shoot up again.

“You have a key to my apartment?” she asks, sounding almost scandalized. He has to stop himself from laughing when he hears her mumble under her breath, “Your wife must just  _ love _ me.” 

“Of course I have a key to your apartment,” he says. As the elevator chimes and the doors open, Oliver steps inside, holding the door for her. She follows him in, still looking at him with curiosity and confusion. Gone are the nerves he’s been feeling about telling her the truth. Instead, he feels like teasing her a bit. “I mean...I live there too.”

“Wait... _ what _ ?” she demands. “How--what-- _ why _ would you live with  _ me _ ?” Oliver’s mouth ticks up on one side in an amused grin as he shrugs, replying,

“Well, generally people live together when they’re married, Felicity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUMONGOUS thanks to @latinasmoak as always for being the best cheerleader a writer could ask for <3


	3. Chapter 3

It feels like she’s just been punched directly in the gut, and the swooping feeling in her stomach has absolutely nothing to do with the elevator reaching the top floor and coming to an abrupt stop. She sways in place, her hand reaching out blindly to grab onto something--anything--to steady herself. Her mouth falls open, moving, but no words will actually come out. The doors slide open with a ding and she watches Oliver reach out to hold them. She knows he’s waiting for her, but her feet simply won’t take her from where she’s planted in the back corner of the elevator to the hallway where he’s standing.

“Felicity?” Oliver prompts, but his voice sounds far away for some reason. “Hey--” his hands land on her shoulders, the contact jolting her back to the moment. “Are you okay?” Felicity doesn’t respond right away; instead she shakes her head like she’s trying to clear water from her ears after a swim.

“Could you just...repeat that? Please?” she finally manages to squeak out. Oliver’s face is almost smug, the big jerk.

“Which part?” he asks, feigning innocence. She’d be frustrated with him if she could actually get her brain to work again.

“The part about why you have a key to my apartment?” she asks weakly.

“Can we get off the elevator first?” he suggests, still holding the door open with his foot. She gives an absent nod, letting him lead her out into the corridor, and he pauses outside the only door in the dimly lit hallway. “As I was saying,” he begins, holding up the keychain for her to see. “I have a key to your apartment because I live here too.” He unlocks the door and turns the handle before Felicity inquires,

“And you live here, with me, because?” Oliver stops, turning back to look at her.

“Because we’re married,” he says like it should be obvious. He turns back around, ready to head into the apartment when Felicity lets out the most raucous peal of laughter he’s ever heard come from her mouth. He slowly turns back around, looking at her like she has lost her mind.

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” she gasps, bending at the waist and holding herself around the middle. “You--you almost had me for a minute there.” She takes a minute to try to catch her breath, but she’s hit with another wave of giggles instead, speaking in between uncontrollable bursts of uproarious laughter. At one point she actually  _ snorts _ . “What is this? Oliver 2.0? He knows how to joke! Who knew?” She gently punches his shoulder, tears streaming down her face, but when she looks up at his face and her last laugh dies on her lips as he clears his throat.

 

“You’re not laughing,” she notices. “Why aren’t you laughing?”

“First of all--I’m trying  _ really _ hard to not be offended by the way you’re reacting right now. And yes, I am being serious, Felicity,” he says, looking entirely unamused.

“You can’t possibly be serious,” she refutes.

“And why is that?”

“Because--” she sputters. “It doesn’t make any sense! On what Earth would you and I ever end up together?” she asks with indignance. 

“Well this one, for starters,” Oliver says. “And at least three others that we know of. One was a definite no and one was a toss-up but the others are still up for debate.”

 

Now it’s Felicity’s turn to stare at him like he’s the one who has gone insane. Oliver puts a hand up to stop her from asking.

“You know what? Never mind. That’s--I’m getting ahead of myself. We’ll talk about it later.” He turns to finally enter the apartment, but stops and turns back around when he realizes Felicity isn’t following him. 

“You’re really not joking?” she nearly whimpers. Oliver sighs in defeat and shakes his head at her.

“Maybe we should continue this conversation inside?” he suggests.

Felicity gnaws on her bottom lip, hovering just outside the threshold as he waits for her to come in. Oliver lets his head fall forward and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Felicity...please come inside the apartment.”

 

Felicity finally inches forward at the look on Oliver’s face. He lets the door fall closed behind them and she jumps at the sound of it slamming. Oliver stalks past her, hanging his coat on a hook on the back of the door and neatly placing his shoes on a shelf next to it. Felicity notices the shelf holds several pairs of brightly-colored heels and two pairs of sneakers in addition to Oliver’s sensible loafers. She follows his lead and toes off the boots she’s been wearing, placing them between a pair of leopard print Louboutins and a pair of electric blue Jimmy Choos. Clearly life has been  _ very _ good to Felicity Smoak.

 

“Are you hungry?” Oliver calls out to her. She follows his voice, leading her from the entryway out into the living area. It’s an open floor plan, well-decorated and modern. It’s a far cry from the cozy apartment she remembers with its colorful artwork and kitschy decor. Oliver is on the other side of a long marble countertop, flitting about the state-of-the-art kitchen and gathering ingredients and tools and dishes as he goes. He pauses when he sees her come into view and repeats himself. “Are you hungry? You must be--it’s been a long day.” Felicity merely shakes her head, still taking in her surroundings. She wanders toward the huge floor-to-ceiling windows where the whole of the Star City skyline lies before her. Her gaze settles upon the giant blue “SMOAK TECHNOLOGIES” sign glowing high above the city, and her heart skips a beat all over again as Oliver’s words from their drive over replay in her mind:

 

_ Billionaire. CEO. Most successful in the world. _

 

It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of and it’s right here in front of her. She huffs out a laugh of disbelief and it catches in her throat, choking her up as she thinks about that little girl in thrift store clothes crying about missing the field trip to the science museum because her mom couldn’t afford the fee. To all the hours spent studying instead of socializing. To the loneliness and ridicule that come along with being a girl who is good at things that are supposed to be meant for boys. How bittersweet that, after all of it, she has accomplished so much but she can’t remember a moment of it. She pushes her glasses up and wipes at her eyes just as a pair of muscular arms wrap around her from behind, startling her. 

 

She freezes, tensing up involuntarily as she feels Oliver press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Something within her responds --a warm, yearning kind of feeling that spreads from deep inside of her chest outwards, despite the logical part of her brain screaming at her about how foreign it should feel to have him nuzzling her like this.

 

“I can’t even begin to understand how you must be feeling right now,” Oliver whispers against her hair. Felicity’s eyes fall shut against her will, Oliver’s warmth enveloping her as he continues. “But I need you to know you’re not alone and we’re going to fix this.” The confidence in his voice shakes her to her core. Never in a million years could she have imagined him so self-assured. So optimistic. She wishes she had even an ounce of that right now. 

“I just...keep waiting to wake up. Like this is all just a crazy dream. None of it makes sense,” Felicity all but whispers. Oliver’s arms fall away from her and he takes a step back, causing her to shiver when she loses his warmth. 

“Us, you mean?” he asks, and Felicity can hear how afflicted he sounds. Her confusion just mounts at the idea that he could be hurt by her bewilderment. She twirls to face him.

“Well, I mean... _ yeah _ .” 

 

Oliver’s brow furrows at that and he opens his mouth to respond when a trilling ring sounds from his pocket. He frowns and pulls his phone out to look at it, then sighs and looks to Felicity, silently apologizing for the interruption as he answers.

“Hey buddy, what’s up?” he asks the person on the other end. Felicity watches as his whole demeanor shifts, hears his voice soften. It’s the same voice he’s been using to talk to her all day and it’s entirely too odd to hear it coming from him. “Can you hold on for just one second, Will? I’ll be right back.”

 

Oliver covers the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand and looks back to Felicity who shuffles awkwardly where she stands. 

“William just wants to check in before bed. How about you go and shower and put on some pajamas and I’ll make something to eat?” he suggests. Felicity can’t argue with that idea--she’s dying for a pair of sweatpants and her familiar MIT hoodie and a hot shower might be just the thing to help her relax a little bit. She begins to ask where she might find those things, but Oliver’s already two steps ahead of her. “Second door down that hallway. Your dresser is the one inside the closet next to the bathroom. Towels are above the sink.”

She nods her thanks and heads in the direction he pointed, Oliver’s voice echoing down the hallway after her as he continues his conversation with his son.

“I know you’re worried about her, buddy, but I promise you she’s okay. You focus on having fun at camp this week. I promise I’ll check in…”

  
  


Felicity opens the second door in the hallway and lets herself into the large master bedroom. It’s decorated sparsely, just like the living area had been, but the bed is made up with a bright green duvet and at least ten colorful throw pillows.  _ Maybe this is my place after all _ , she thinks to herself as she wanders over to the huge walk-in closet opposite the bed. She lets her fingers dance over the garments hanging there, stopping to pull out a dress or a blouse every so often to marvel at it. Her tastes have definitely changed in clothing--there’s no way any of these things came from Target. When she finally reaches the mahogany dresser in the back of the closet, she pulls open three drawers before she finds the one with her pajamas in it and another two before she finds her underwear drawer. None of the final three drawers yield her beloved hoodie, nor does she find it hanging up anywhere in the massive closet the size of her college dorm room, so she dejectedly opts for a lacy pink camisole then heads to the bathroom. 

 

It takes her a few tries but she finally figures out how to work the shower, then she spends a long twenty minutes under the scalding water, her mind racing through everything that has happened since she woke up in the midst of this life she doesn’t recognize. When the water runs cold she steps out and wraps herself in a huge fluffy white towel, padding out to the bedroom again where she left the clothes she’s picked out. 

A few minutes later she’s dried and clothed, her wet curls a mess even after she runs a comb through them. When she finds her way back to the living room, Oliver is making up the couch into a bed with a pillow and a green throw blanket. 

“I left you some dinner in the microwave, if you’re hungry,” he offers, fluffing the pillow he’s holding before setting it on the couch. 

“I...I don’t really have much of an appetite,” Felicity admits, nervously pulling on a piece of hair that hangs loose over her shoulder. “I think I’m going to try to sleep instead, if that’s okay.” She motions towards the couch. 

“Oh no--you don’t have to--” he shakes his head at her. “I made the couch up for  _ me _ . You take the bed--it’s far more comfortable.”

“No, no,” Felicity insists. “I’d rather have the couch.”

“Felicity, you don’t need to--”

“Oliver--” she interrupts him, raising her voice slightly. “Please. I want to sleep out here.” 

 

She doesn’t explain herself, doesn’t go into detail about why she’s fighting so hard to sleep on what looks to be a very fashion-forward, but not particularly comfortable sofa. In all honesty, however, she doesn’t think she could sleep in a bed she supposedly shares with a husband she doesn’t remember marrying in a bedroom that doesn’t feel like hers. 

 

“Are you sure?” Oliver asks her, and he sounds worried again. “I don’t mind. I was going to sleep in William’s room but he really needs to change the sheets in there. Teenage boys,” he adds with a grin and a shrug.

“I’m sure,” Felicity promises him, and Oliver finally concedes, moving out of the way so she can get past him to the couch. 

“Well I guess...I’ll see you in the morning,” he tells her, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifts from one foot to the other. Felicity gives a jerky nod.

“Yeah...um...thank you,” she says.

“You never need to thank me,” Oliver tells her, and his soft smile is back. “Goodnight.”

“G-goodnight,” she replies.

 

Oliver turns to walk toward the bedroom, but he only makes it three steps before he stops, hesitating before turning back around.

“Felicity?” he says, and she just looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. He opens and closes his mouth a few times like he isn’t sure what he wants to say or  _ if _ he wants to say it. Finally, he takes a breath and looks her right in the eye. “I love you,” he tells her, and it’s with the same self-assured confidence he’d had earlier. Felicity’s breath catches in her throat, noticing the sincerity in Oliver’s eyes as he holds her gaze. “You don’t have to say it back,” he says quickly, as though he can sense her imminent freakout. “I just...I promised myself a long time ago that I’d never let you fall asleep without hearing those words. So...I had to say it...goodnight, Felicity.” 

 

With that Oliver heads back to the bedroom, not even giving her a moment to respond. Instead she stands there gaping after him for a time, her breath speeding up and her heart pounding in her chest. She closes her eyes tightly and whispers to herself under her breath, “What. Is.  _ Happening _ right now?”

 

She shakes her head and opens her eyes, her gaze catching on the mantle above the fireplace across from her. Her feet carry her without thought as she hones in on the photographs displayed there. One of a young boy wearing a medal of some kind--it must be William because he looks  _ so  _ much like Oliver. It makes her smile the way his hair even sticks up in the same way. Next to that is a photo of her and Oliver in what looks like a tropical place, Oliver planting a kiss on her cheek while she laughs enthusiastically. On either end of the mantle are black and white photos from what must have been their wedding day. In one, Oliver is holding her close on the dance floor. In the other, Felicity has one arm around his neck while the other strokes his face. They are surrounded by people, but it’s clear that in that moment it was just the two of them.

Felicity has never seen anyone look at her the way Oliver is in this photo, and it’s so intriguing to her that she reaches for it, bringing it with her to the couch. She sinks down into the cushions, cradling the black frame in her shaking hands as she studies it. It could be ten minutes or it could be an hour before she finally puts the photo down on the side table in front of the window and crawls under the green throw blanket. She tries to settle her nerves, forcing her eyes to close and tossing this way and that, but she feels nauseous and the anxiety is eating at her in a way she’s never felt before. It’s nearly dawn before she finally falls asleep to the sounds of the city waking up below. The blue glow of the Smoak Technologies sign reflecting off the glass of the picture frame on the table.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity tries to piece together what she can from text messages and Dig stops by to check on her and offer some advice.

Felicity wakes up to the sun beating down on her and she groans as she rolls over, reaching for her pillow to hug. When she comes up with only air, she frowns and rubs her eyes. She opens them just in time to stop herself from rolling off the edge of the couch onto the hard floor. She catches sight of the framed photo she’d left on the table the night before and that’s when everything rushes back to her.

_ Oh. _

 

Stretching, she looks around for her glasses and finds them on the coffee table next to a mobile phone she doesn’t recognize with a sticky note on its screen. 

 

_ You were snoring when I left for the office this morning, and I didn’t want to disturb you. I left waffles and turkey bacon in the microwave and I’ll text you later to see what you’d like me to bring home for lunch. Let me know if you need me to send John over or come home sooner.  _

_ -xo Oliver _

 

Felicity huffs out a chuckle at the absurdity that is brooding vigilante Oliver Queen signing a note with x’s and o’s, but she can’t help the smile that takes over her face at the same time. She peels the yellow sticky note off of the phone and sets it on the table before she examines the new device. It’s got a funky, colorful case that just screams  _ Felicity! _ So she knows it must be hers, but she’s never seen anything like it before.  _ Oh how technology can change in such a short time _ , she thinks wistfully. 

 

She presses the home button and the screen lights up, asking for her to enter her passcode or hold still for a retinal scan. A rush of excitement comes over her as she hits “scan” and waits for the phone to do so. It unlocks and she nods, impressed, as she flits through the icons and apps. Selecting the icon for settings, she searches for the model of the phone, curious about the origins of such an advanced piece of tech.

“A-D-A eleven-nine-hundred,” she reads aloud. “Proprietary hardware. Registered trademark...Smoak Technologies.” Felicity’s jaw drops a bit at that. “Holy frak I invented my own  _ phone _ .” 

 

Her giggle is somewhat undignified, but nobody is around to hear her so she doesn’t feel too embarrassed. She lets herself stare at the text a while longer, smiling until her face hurts, before she decides to keep searching through the phone. Though Oliver had answered a lot of questions for her, she still had a lot more where those had come from. Maybe she’d find some answers this way. She looks through the photos first--there aren’t many. Several of William with a science project of some kind and one or two of Oliver and William posing in suits at what must have been some kind of fundraiser. The rest are snapshots of food and a few silly selfies of her with a young woman she recognizes as Oliver’s sister, Thea. She looks far older and more mature than Felicity remembers her in the one or two instances she can recall meeting her. It hits her after a moment that she and Thea are sisters-in-law now, and from the looks of it they are quite close. 

She closes out of the photos with a shake of her head and clicks on the text message icon. Her most recent conversation is between herself and someone named Alena, checking on the status of some kind of project in the research and development lab. The next one is from the day before, from someone named Iris, asking when she’d be arriving in Central City. The third conversation is between she and Oliver (or, as he’s listed in her phone, “hubby”), and she can’t help but give in to the curiosity that overwhelms her. She taps his name and opens the thread of messages, scrolling backwards through them.

  
  


Felicity squints at the phone and clicks on the photo, making it full size. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but it certainly isn’t an HQ, full body shot of Oliver completely nude--and entirely at attention. She squeaks, all but throwing the phone. It lands on the plush rug near the fireplace, face down, and Felicity just sits frozen on the couch staring at it with wide eyes. 

“Oh my _ God _ ,” she hisses, jumping up from where she’s seated and moving towards the phone with hesitance. She circles it for a moment, contemplating if she could get away with just leaving it there and buying a new one. She  _ did _ invent it, after all. And clearly she can afford to do that now, right? Would that be weird? 

 

“Pull yourself together, Smoak. It’s just a penis,” she scolds herself, trying to hype herself up so she can retrieve the phone. “Your  _ husband’s _ penis,” she adds with a high-pitched noise of disbelief. “Oh my God...Oliver is my  _ husband _ . That means we’ve totally...how is that just coming to me now? Not coming like... _ coming _ ...oh God shut  _ up _ .” 

 

She shakes her head, running her fingers through her hair, and takes a step closer to the phone. Positive she must look like a crazy person, she finally takes a deep breath and reaches for it, slowly turning it over and touching the screen to turn it on again. When the photo re-appears on the screen she audibly gulps, unable to tear her eyes away from the image this time. She’s tilting her head to study it a bit closer when the phone rings and Oliver’s face shows up on the screen, eliciting a yelp from her as she nearly drops the phone. 

When she finally has a handle on the device again, she hits the answer button and stutters into the mouthpiece.

“H-h-hello?” 

“Felicity? Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you, I just wanted to check in,” Oliver tells her.

“Nope. You didn’t. I’m up. As in I’m awake. You didn’t wake me up,” she tries to assure him. “No worries. Everything is just...great...here.”

“Okay,” he responds, sounding unsure. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up, but there’s a lot going on at the office right now with my re-election campaign coming up. I’ll be able to come back for lunch, though, so if there’s anything you’d like me to pick up on my way--”

“It’s...that’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m sure I can just dick out-- _duck_! Out. As in leave the apartment. To get something to eat. Because I’m sure you’re busy and have a lot to do to get ready for the erection-- _Election!_ ” she pauses, grimacing and mouthing a silent yet horrified _oh my God_ to herself. “I’ll be just fine. You just...you worry about work and I’ll worry about myself and I’ll talk to you later. Okay bye!” 

 

She jabs at the end call button with far more force than is really necessary, but the call ends and she stares at the phone in absolute mortification, her face burning. 

“Why am I like this?” she asks nobody in particular before tossing the phone onto the couch and digging the heels of her hands into her eyes, admonishing herself. “How in the world did he end up marrying you? You see one picture of him naked and you can’t even hold a normal conversation over the phone with him you creep! Oh no--” she groans and buries her face in her hands. “How am I supposed to look him in the eye again after this?” 

 

Standing, Felicity begins to pace the room, her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to wipe the memory of the photo from her mind’s eye. Around her twenty-second time circling the coffee table she flops back down onto the couch and snatches the phone back up, pulling up the text messages again and quickly scrolling past the offending message to continue where she’d left off. 

  
  


Felicity frowns at her phone and re-reads the last exchange one more time. 

 

_ I’m just ready for it to be us _ .

 

She feels a lump forming in her throat as her breathing speeds up and her heart races. Ready for a baby? Her? The thought alone absolutely terrifies her. Up until she’d woken up to find out she was married with a stepson, marriage and children were the first things on her “Nope, not going to happen.  _ Ever _ .” list. The idea that something she’s been sure of since middle school could change so drastically in the span of six years has her thrown entirely off-kilter. 

“It’s like I’m on a one-way ride to crazy town,” she mutters to herself, setting the phone back on the couch, face down so it won’t tempt her again. Without thinking she’s up and pacing again, around and around and around the table she goes as she thinks aloud to herself.

“I’m just not mom material. I want a career. And a life. And besides I’m only twenty-three years old anyway--” she stops as she remembers the whole  _ missing six years of her life _ thing. “Okay twenty-nine then, I guess. Almost thirty. Which is  _ still _ like...really young, right? I mean in Europe people don’t even get married until they’re in their thirties,” she babbles to nobody in particular, working herself up in the process. “It’s not selfish to not want kids. It’s responsible. Because let’s be real, I didn’t have a great example or anything. I’d be a horrible mom. I can’t even remember to feed myself most days, unless it’s Big Belly Burger. How am I supposed to keep another human alive? That’s crazy. Almost as crazy as me standing here talking to myself like this. I really need to--”

 

The doorbell rings, interrupting her monologue, and she tiptoes to the door with a knot in her stomach, wondering who would be visiting in the middle of the day like this.

“Who is it?” she calls, pushing up on her tiptoes to look through the peephole on the door. Before she can see for herself, she hears a familiar voice on the other side.

“It’s John, Felicity. Can I come in?” 

 

With a sigh of relief she unlocks the door and pulls it open to reveal John Diggle standing in the hallway, holding the hand of a little girl in a white martial arts uniform. Her hair is done up in pigtails and she’s shifting from one foot to the other in pure, unbridled excitement as Felicity comes into view.

 

“Aunt Lissie!” the girl squeals, launching herself at Felicity’s legs and promptly wrapping her body around them in a vice grip. Felicity reaches out to grab onto something for balance and comes up short, sending both of them tumbling to the hard floor. 

“Sara, what did I say before we got here?” Dig scolds the little girl. The child bows her head, looking guilty and disheartened.

“That Aunt Lissie has an owie and might not 'member me,” she mumbles quietly. 

“That’s right,” her father says with a nod, reaching out a hand to help Felicity up off the ground. She gladly takes it, getting to her feet and looking from Dig to the little girl and back again. She’s back on her feet too, and watching Felicity like she doesn’t know what to expect.

“But I ‘member  _ you _ ,” she persists. “We like to play together and sometimes, when Mommy and Daddy and Uncle Ol’ver aren’t watching you let me have candy and play cool coding games on your phone and one time, you and me and Will, we took apart his ‘puter together and you let me look at its  _ guts _ and it was so cool!”

Felicity is pretty sure her eyebrows have disappeared into her hairline the way she’s staring wide-eyed at the little girl before her, but she manages a nod. 

“Uh-huh,” she says, unsure. “That...that does sound like fun.” She glances back at Dig who is standing with his arms crossed, looking entirely too amused.

“Sara, why don’t you go use the potty while we’re here?” he suggests and oh, she does not look like she likes that idea one bit. The little girl opens her mouth to protest, but with one raised eyebrow and the tilt of her father’s head, she thinks better of it and half-stomps off toward the bathroom down the hall. Dig shakes his head and sighs, “Four year olds and their sass.”

“You...have a kid?” Felicity says and he chuckles.

“I sure do. And one more on the way any time now. That one is Sara and she’s four going on fourteen most days. No idea how I’m gonna manage with two.”

“So did you stop by just to say hi, or did Oliver send you to check up on me?” Felicity asks, cutting straight to the chase. Dig shrugs.

“We were in the neighborhood on our way to karate class and Oliver called. Said you were acting weird and could I make sure you were okay.”

“What? Weird? No!” Felicity scoffs, waving him off and meandering back towards the couch with Dig following behind her. “Nothing weird here. Totally normal.” 

“Sure,” he concedes, not pushing her. “I take it Oliver told you? About the two of you?”

“Oh you mean that we’re married?” she says with a hint of sarcasm. “Yeah, he might have mentioned something about that.” Dig nods calmly, staring her down, studying her.

“And how do you feel about that?” he asks, and Felicity opens her mouth to speak--to give him some kind of snarky answer to cover how incredibly awkward she’s feeling--but she sees the way he’s looking like he can see right through her and all the fight drains right out of her, her shoulders slumping as her gaze drops to her feet. 

“I...I don’t know?” she admits. She sucks in a breath and tries to steady her voice when she continues. “I mean...I should be happy about all of this, right? I married Oliver Queen--” she says his voice with fake awe and a phony smile plastered on her face. “Most of the women in Starling would die for that chance, right?”

“I don’t think anyone can tell you how you  _ should _ feel about this, Felicity,” he says sagely. “It’s a messed up situation to be in. Nobody could blame you for feeling confused and upset and overwhelmed by it all.” 

 

Felicity sinks down onto the arm of the couch, wrapping her arms around her middle and staring up at Dig as he leans against the wall.

“It’s a lot,” she tells him in a small voice. 

“It is a lot,” he agrees. “But you know...I’ve been thinking a lot since last night. About the Felicity Smoak I knew six years ago.” He pauses as she tilts her head at him, curiosity striking her as a wistful smile comes over his features. “She was this awkward, babbling misfit. Uncomfortable in her own skin. Not sure of her place in the world--or maybe that’s just what she wanted everyone to think,” he adds with a knowing wink. “But the Felicity Smoak I know now? The one the world knows? She’s fierce and confident. She takes what she wants in life. She has a voice that never shakes.” He smiles proudly, beaming down at her. “But you know what the real difference is?” he asks, and Felicity shakes her head, waiting with bated breath for him to continue.

“The difference is that back then she put up walls and wore her armor and wouldn’t let anyone in. She thought it was easier to keep all of her problems and heartache to herself rather then put her trust in someone only to have them hurt her. But now? Now she knows better. Now she’s got a family and she lets them love her and support her. No more walls, no more armor. Because she doesn’t need them anymore.”

 

Dig doesn’t take his eyes off of Felicity, but she has to look away for a minute to gather her composure. She tries to be subtle as she wipes away the tears that have gathered in her eyes, but she feels so vulnerable--so exposed--having him standing there as she cries. 

She’s got her arm up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, so she doesn’t notice Dig until he’s right in front of her, squatting down so he’s almost at her eye level. 

“Promise me you won’t put those walls back up?” he implores, his voice softer than she’s ever heard it before. “You don’t have to deal with this by yourself, Felicity. You’ve got me and Lyla. You’ve got Alena and Thea. Your mom. Quentin. You’ve got the rest of the team here in Star City and our friends in Central City. But most of all--you’ve got a husband and a stepson who love and adore you and who’d do anything to put a smile on your face.”

Felicity’s voice is thick with emotion when she chuckles through the fresh tears.

“You do realize I don’t remember who half of those people are, right?” Dig just laughs right along with her before he leans in, wrapping her up in his humongous arms for a hug. 

“Well you’ve still got me, kid,” he promises. And she can’t help but wrap her arms around him (as far as they’ll go, anyway) and hold on tight. 

“Thanks Dig,” she says, her voice muffled because of where she’s buried in his shoulder.

“Anytime. We’re family,” he tells her definitively. “That’s what we’re here for, right?” She leans back and nods, wiping her eyes one more time. “One more thing?” he says.

“Hmm?” 

“You never call me Dig anymore. I’m not sure I can pinpoint when you switched over to ‘John’ full time, but it is a little weird to hear it making a comeback,” he explains, and Felicity giggles. “I mean--whatever works for you,” he says with a shrug.

“I’ll do my best,” she promises, holding her hand up in a scout’s honor sign. 

“Not just on calling me by my real name, I hope?” he prods, and Felicity swallows down the lump in her throat with a nod.

“I’ll try,” she says, her smile fading a bit. He nods in return, leaving it at that, and stands back up clapping his hands together.

“Good. Well on that note, I better find my kid before she destroys something and get her to her practice before we’re late.” He calls for Sara, who has been suspiciously quiet, and pulls out his phone to check the time. “Oliver should be here any minute with some lunch, by the way,” he tells Felicity. “Let him know I’ll see him tonight?” 

“Sure,” she agrees.

“Daddy I found Will’s video games!” Sara calls out with enthusiasm and John grimaces.

“Sara Marie don’t you make me come in there,” he warns. They hear the sound of door slamming shut and the patter of feet as she comes bolting out of the bedroom behind the kitchen. She slides to a stop between Felicity and her father looking sheepish.

“I didn’t touch ‘em Daddy. Promise.” John looks at her like he doesn’t believe her for a moment, but he sighs and doesn’t persist.

“Tell Aunt Lissie goodbye,” he instructs, and Sara looks to Felicity with a hesitant smile until she squats down to the child’s level and opens her arms for a hug. At that the girl flings herself into the embrace and squeezes.

“Love you Auntie,” Sara tells her. “I hope your owie feels better soon so we can play again. Maybe we can look at pi-tures next time to help you ‘member me?” 

“I think that sounds like a wonderful plan,” Felicity agrees. With one last squeeze Sara lets go and reaches for her Dad’s hand and the two of them leave. When Sara waves back at her over her shoulder as they head for the elevator, Felicity just can’t help but smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver brings lunch home for Felicity and they chat about her morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Meg (@TheMMs on Twitter) for the beta on this chapter, and to Ale (@latinasmoak) for being the best sounding board out there ^_^

         Felicity does another few laps around the coffee table in the living room after John and Sarah leave, anxiety eating her up as she considers the prospect of facing Oliver after the discovery of his text messages earlier. Finally she takes a breath and tries to calm herself down by heading to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. She makes her way to the giant walk-in closet next, sifting through the seemingly endless rack of designer dresses before settling on a pair of black pants and a camisole instead.

She is just pulling a particularly luxurious cashmere sweater over her head when she hears the sound of the front door opening and then falling closed.

“Felicity?” Oliver calls out to her. She freezes where she stands in her closet, debating whether or not she could get away with hiding from him in here. Forever. Before she can commit to the idea, however, he’s poking his head through the bedroom door. “Oh. There you are.”

“Yep, here I am,” she says, her voice overly enthusiastic and strained. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles at her and wow, that is a welcome sight. She realizes she’s not used to seeing that look from him, and it occurs to her that she’s seen him smile more in the past twenty-four hours than she had in the entire year she’d known him. The way the blue of his eyes sparkles and the corners crinkle as he grins. He looks so at peace. So _happy_. Definitely something she could get used to. “I brought you some lunch,” he says, holding up a white paper bag as an offering. The red and yellow Big Belly Burger logo is hard to miss and Felicity’s stomach growls in response. She realizes she can’t remember the last time she ate.

“That smells incredible,” she admits, all embarrassment forgotten as she crosses the room to accept the bag from him. “Thank you.”

“Well, I noticed you hadn’t eaten your dinner last night. And something tells me you haven’t gotten around to the breakfast I made either,” he says with a look that makes known his disapproval. “I know the only surefire way to get you to eat when you’re like this is to offer fast food. Despite my feelings on it.”

Felicity’s shoulders slump a bit, bashful, as she realizes how onto her he is.

“I didn’t mean to. I just…forgot.” she tells him, defensively.

“I know. But you can’t forget to eat for two days, Felicity.” Oliver sounds slightly exasperated, but he’s still wearing a smile as he looks down at her. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

She follows him out to the kitchen and pulls herself up onto a stool while he sets out some napkins and doles out the food.

“Did you have a good morning?” he asks her as she starts on her cheeseburger.

“I kind of just woke up. But Digg—er—John and Sara stopped by. That was nice.”

“I’m glad you got to meet Sara,” Oliver says with a fond grin.

“She is scrumptious,” Felicity says with a chuckle. “I can see the appeal.”

“She really is something else,” Oliver agrees.

They fall into an uneasy silence as they continue to pick at their food. Felicity doesn’t even know where to start with initiating conversation. She’s honestly just doing the best she can to keep her eyes on her food or his face. But the way Oliver is standing across from her in the kitchen—sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, shirt slightly unbuttoned, dress pants fitting _incredibly_ well—it’s almost like he’s taunting her. Like he just _knows_ what she accidentally stumbled upon this morning while he was gone.

“How’s work?” she finally asks, nervously. 

“Busy.” He sighs. “But good. It’s the first time in a long time we haven’t been in crisis mode so, I’ve got that going for me.”

“I think it’s really incredible,” Felicity tells him. “That you’re the mayor, I mean.”

“Who would have thought, right?” he says with a wink, and Felicity feels herself flush from head to toe at that. 

“I think I always knew you had it in you,” she counters, locking eyes with him across the countertop despite the burning in her cheeks. He nods, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards at that.

“Yeah,” he says. “You really did.” 

Felicity returns his smile this time, even as she shifts uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. She lets out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding when he returns his attention to his food. 

“You know, I’ve been a mess today at work,” he says after a long moment of silence. “I really didn’t want to leave you alone this morning. You must have so many questions.”

“I think I’m just still trying to wrap my head around the absurdity of it all, if I’m being honest,” she admits with a shrug. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well you know I’m here when you’re ready, right?” he says. The look on his face is so earnest and sincere that it catches her off-guard. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “I--of course.” He stares her down for a moment, his brow knitting together in concern before he takes a deep breath and lets it out again.

“Okay. Good.” He eats another fry before she speaks up.

“You know, I do have one question, actually.” 

He pauses, waiting for her to continue. “I just--I’m not wearing a ring?” she says, holding up her left hand. “Why is that?” 

“You dropped it off to be cleaned before you went to Central City on Friday,” Oliver tells her. “It should be ready to pick up this week sometime.” 

Felicity nods in understanding.

“Oh...I...that makes sense. It was kind of a stupid question, but...I was just--”

“You’re Felicity Smoak,” Oliver interrupts her. “You don’t do stupid.” 

“That too--” Felicity blurts out. “I’m not Felicity Queen?” 

Oliver shakes his head.

“Nope. You kept your last name. I joked that I should take yours--Oliver Smoak sounds pretty good, don’t you think?” Felicity lets out a little giggle at that. “You’re my wife, Felicity. My partner. Not my property. I’m glad you decided to keep your name.” 

Felicity is a bit taken aback by that, but she feels an overwhelming wave of affection come over her as she looks up at him. They fall back into silence again--more comfortable this time--until Oliver changes the subject with a question of his own. 

“So you found your phone?” he asks, glancing up at her. She gulps.

“How did you--I mean--I did but how--” she sputters.

“Well, you answered when I called you,” he says simply, the grin back on his face again.

“Oh,” she breathes out, relief washing over her. “Right.”

“You invented that one yourself,” he says. It’s hard to miss the pride in his voice when he says it. Like he can’t believe he’s married to her. She honestly can’t believe it either.

“I saw that,” she says. “I was playing around on it earlier.”

“See anything that caught your eye?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“No. No,” she answers quickly. Probably a bit too quickly. “Nothing at all. Just normal...phone...stuff.” Oliver nods and smiles down at his food. He doesn’t respond at first, just takes his time gathering up his wrappers and throwing them away. He’s rinsing his glass when he says, over his shoulder, 

“You know, you’ve added some really cool features to that thing.”

“Oh?” she asks weakly. Oliver nods as he puts his glass in the dishwasher. 

“Yep. You can take pictures that move--like mini videos,” he continues, his back to her as he works on loading the dishwasher with the rest of the dishes in the sink. “And, when you double click on a photo in a text message it lets the sender know that you’ve ‘liked’ it.”

 

Felicity freezes, her eyes going wide as her heart nearly stops. Oliver doesn’t turn around, he just keeps loading the plates and silverware into the dishwasher as though he hasn’t just nonchalantly informed her that he knows  _ exactly _ what she was doing this morning. She feels like she might throw up, but Oliver is acting like everything is just fine. She closes her eyes and buries her face in her hands. _ This is it. This is how I die _ . 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Oliver asks, turning around to face her. She peeks up at him through her fingers and sees the mischievous glint in his eye and the grin on his face. And  _ oh _ \--he is definitely doing this to torture her. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Felicity,” he insists. That only makes her want to melt into the floor and disappear even more. “You’re usually pretty vocal about your appreciation of my body. It’s not news to me.” He doesn’t stop there though, of course he doesn’t. Instead, he braces his arms on the counter and leans in a bit closer as he adds, “For the record? The feeling is mutual.” He shoots her a wink and a salacious smile that has knots forming in her stomach. 

As he returns to tidying the kitchen, Felicity finds herself simultaneously mortified beyond all reason and weirdly turned on. She lets her forehead press against the cool marble countertop, wrapping her arms around her head and staying buried there. Willing herself to simply disappear. Oliver, the bastard, just chuckles to himself and starts the dishwasher. 

“I have to head back to the office for another hour or two,” he announces. Felicity stays put in her cocoon of shame without so much as a noise of acknowledgement. “Would you want to come with me?” he asks timidly, and Felicity slowly raises her head to look at him.

“Really?” she asks, incredulous. 

“If you want,” he replies.“I can always find something you could do to help with my _erection_ campaign.” Felicity groans at that, burying her head under her arms again as Oliver lets out a full-fledged belly laugh.  
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” she says, looking up to glare at him. Oliver leans in, his elbows on the counter, and looks her in the eye.

“You know, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed your babbles until now. It’s adorable. Almost as funny as the time you told me it felt really good having me inside of you over the comms. Though at the time I didn’t really appreciate it the way I should have.” He laughs. 

“You mean there actually comes a time when I’m not putting my foot in my mouth all the time?” She asks with a pout.

“Believe it or not,” he says. “I mean, don’t get me wrong; you still make innuendos. It’s just that these days you’re more... _intentionally_ suggestive.” Felicity feels her face flush at the implication behind his words and she drops her gaze to the countertop again as Oliver continues. “I could drop you at the bunker instead? I think John started running some searches this morning to see if we can track down the guy who attacked you on our end. I know that the Central City team is on it too. So maybe you could check on those.”   
“Maybe if I’m still alive when I’m finished dying of embarrassment,” Felicity mumbles, covering her face with her hands.  

“What if I promise not to tease you anymore?” Oliver offers, and Felicity finally meets his eye again, her hands coming to rest on the counter where she begins wringing them nervously. 

“Promise?” she asks, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Promise,” he agrees. He reaches over to cover her hands with his and she stifles the urge to yank them away. Instead she watches, fascinated, as his calloused thumb runs over her knuckles. His touch is so much more gentle than she expected and it takes her by surprise when he moves his hand from hers to cup her face instead. The same thumb strokes across her cheek bone and she swallows hard as she meets his gaze. He’s looking at her with such intensity that it causes her heart to skip a beat. With a soft smile, he tucks a loose curl behind her ear and pulls his hand back. 

“Ready when you are, then,” he tells her. She forces herself to nod in acknowledgement. 

“Right...I need to...I’ll just--” she tries to hop down off of the stool and trips over her own feet, almost falling on her face on the wood floor below. Luckily she manages to steady herself by grabbing the counter. After a few seconds to get her bearings she tries again.

“You got it?” Oliver asks her and she waves him off.

“Yup. All good. I’m good. Got it,” she insists. “Give me two minutes?”   
Oliver nods in agreement and Felicity turns on her heel to head back to the bedroom to finish getting ready. She grabs a plain pair of ballet flats from the closet to go with her black skinny jeans and colorful cardigan before ducking into the bathroom to brush her hair into a low ponytail. Her curls are still a bit wild, but there’s no time to even try taming them. Instead, she finds a drawer full of makeup and throws on some eyeliner and lipstick before she meets Oliver back in the living room.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she announces. Oliver looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch, looking at his phone, and she can’t help but notice the way he tilts his head to the side and smiles like he’s amused by something when he sees her. “What?” she asks, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious as he looks her over.

“Nothing,” he insists. “You just--you look…” he trails off for a moment and she finds herself shifting from one foot to the other. Her fingers find her ponytail and begin twisting one of the curls between them. 

“Should I change?” she offers, and Oliver immediately shakes his head.

“No! No of course not--I didn’t mean--you just haven’t really...dressed like this lately. Not for a long time. It just sort of...reminded me of back then. You know?” Felicity glances down at what she had, up until several seconds ago, considered to be a pretty solid outfit and winces as she looks back up at Oliver. Before she can say anything he has a hand on her arm and is smiling that toothy grin she thinks might make her knees give out. “It’s cute-- _ you’re _ cute,” he insists. And with that he leans down to peck her on the cheek before heading for the door. He’s on the threshold before he realizes she isn’t following him and he prompts her, “Coming?” Felicity nods, doing her best to hide how affected she feels from one tiny little kiss on the cheek. 

“Mmm-hmm. Yup. Right behind you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity accompanies Oliver to City Hall where she learns more about their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Meg (@TheMMs) for the beta and to Janis (@so_caffeinated) for loaning me one of her OCs to play with :)

City hall is a mere ten minutes away from the apartment, and Oliver spends the drive filling in Felicity on the things the two of them have accomplished, both individually and together, in the six years she’s lost. She learns that her company invested millions of dollars in education programs and community centers, and that they had even donated the money to help the city build a new library to replace the one that crumbled during the earthquake in the Glades. Oliver, meanwhile, managed to take what was once Starling from a failing city on the brink of collapse to a bustling metropolis named Star City that was full of promise. People were moving in droves, eager to fill the many open jobs created by the jump-started economy. Many corporations were motivated to move their headquarters or open new locations for their manufacturing and tech companies. Overall, Felicity learned that the city was in better shape than it had been in years--and Oliver beams with pride as he tells Felicity that really, the two of them were behind a lot of it.

 

By the time Oliver pulls the car into his personalized parking space in the city hall garage, Felicity feels more at ease than she has since the whole ordeal began. She can’t help smiling as she listens to Oliver speak. He’s so eager and optimistic and hopeful about the future. So unlike the Oliver she thought she knew before all of this began. 

“Thanks for coming by here with me first,” Oliver says as they step into the elevator. He pushes the button for the top floor and the doors slide shut before them. “I just have a few things to sign off on and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

 

“Oh, it’s fine,” Felicity assures him with a shrug. “I don’t mind.” Oliver doesn’t respond, but he turns and looks at her, that infuriatingly handsome grin back on his face as he looks her over, his gaze lingering on her until she has to look away, his intensity making her cheeks burn. The attention he pays to her is both intoxicating and torturous and she can’t decide if the way he is making her feel should enthrall her or embarrass her.

 

They step off the elevator and nearly run right into a woman standing near the doors. When she sees Oliver, her face lights up and she begins exuding so much energy that Felicity is honestly surprised she doesn’t squeal in excitement.

“Mr. Mayor! You’re back! The committee finished up the planning meeting for your big fundraiser next month and we’re just waiting on your signature to get started. We’re thinking live music, a silent art auction-” she takes in a sharp breath as she sees Felicity step out from behind Oliver and suddenly becomes flustered and breathless. “ _ Oh _ ! Ms. Smoak! I didn’t know you’d be stopping by today. It’s so nice to finally meet you! Hi!”

The woman eagerly reaches for Felicity’s hand and shakes it vigorously as Felicity’s panic begins to creep in. She has no idea who this woman is and is glad to learn that it’s the first time they’ve met. She opens her mouth to say something but feels Oliver’s hand come to rest on the small of her back and she gives a sigh of relief as he begins to speak.

“That’s right, you haven’t had the chance to meet yet, have you? Mrs. Prescott, this is Felicity. Felicity, this is Mrs. Prescott. She is our new special events coordinator -fundraisers, galas, campaign events, that kind of thing,” he explains.

 

“Please, call me Lia,” the woman says. “It really is an honor to finally shake your hand! The things your company is doing with renewable energy are so remarkable. And your biostimulant line? Brilliant.” Felicity smiles and nods in an attempt to at least look like she has even the slightest clue what Lia is talking about. Her confusion must go unnoticed, however, because Lia just keeps talking. 

 

“You’re such an inspiration to the young girls out there. My own daughter was a participant in the Smoak Tech STEM program last year and she just wrote a paper all about you!” 

 

“Lia’s daughter Amelia came to visit for Bring Your Child To Work Day last month,” Oliver adds. “She’s an incredible young woman. I think William was a bit smitten.” 

“Well, if the amount of texting the two of them have been doing is any indication, I’d say the feeling is quite mutual,” Lia says with a sigh and a shake of her head. “I wasn’t ready for this stage quite yet, but is any parent, really? She’s giving me gray hair far before my time.”

“It sounds like there’s a baseball game in our future,” Oliver says, grinning. “We’ll have to touch base about who is chaperoning this one.”

“We certainly will,” Lia agrees. “Amelia is just so happy she finally has someone to share her love of baseball with again. Before he died, she and her dad used to go to games all the time. I think she misses it.”

Lia’s smile slips and Felicity notices the way her eyes go shiny, like she’s holding back tears. Oliver reaches out and touches the woman’s shoulder.

 

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” he says sincerely.

“It’s been just over a year now. Most of the time we’re okay, but some days it comes out of nowhere and catches you off-guard,” Lia explains, swallowing hard. “I know Amelia thinks it’s silly to believe in soulmates and true love, but I know without a doubt that Amos was it for me. The two of you know what that’s like, right? To be fated to be with someone? Like the stars have aligned and everything in your life brought you to that exact moment. The moment you met and your whole life changed?”

“I brought her my busted laptop to fix,” Oliver says with a soft chuckle. “She was chewing on a red pen. That was it for me. I was a goner.” Felicity turns to stare up at him, nearly in awe that he would even remember that day, let alone admit it was the day he fell in love with her.

“When the two of you broke up, the whole city felt it. I’m so happy you found your way back to each other,” Lia tells them. Felicity glances up at Oliver, confused, trying her best to remember that none of this is supposed to be news to her. She feels him squeeze her a bit tighter and even without words, she hears him loud and clear-- _ we’ll talk about it in a minute _ . She forces herself to smile again, then looks back at Lia who is grabbing Felicity’s hands in her own. “You’ve got one of the good ones. Make sure you hold on tight. We never know what life has in store for us.” 

Felicity doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead she just nods her agreement and returns Lia’s smile, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels. Oliver must sense her discomfort because he pulls her in a bit closer, his hand coming to rest on her hip. She’s not sure what makes her do it, but she leans into him, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

“I will just sign off on that budget for the fundraiser and return Governor Inslee’s message and then Felicity and I have some errands to take care of this afternoon,” Oliver announces, and leaving Felicity incredibly grateful for the subject change. “But I’m so glad we ran into you before you left and I am sure I will be in touch to talk more about this thing with William and Amelia.” Lia laughs at that and nods.

“I’m sure we will. Have a great weekend, Mr. Mayor. Ms. Smoak,” she says with a tip of her head. And with that she presses the elevator button and leaves the two of them alone in the corridor. Felicity waits for Oliver to take his arm from around her, but he doesn’t, not until she steps away herself, her hands finding her pockets as she shifts from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Oliver tries to hide his disappointment in her reaction with a chuckle, but she doesn’t miss how empty it sounds. 

“Thanks for playing along,” he tells her, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly. “My office is just through here,” he adds, gesturing towards the door at the end of the hallway and Felicity follows him inside. 

 

His office is huge and the windows take up the entire exterior wall, giving a sweeping panoramic view of the city. Oliver heads straight to the stunning mahogany desk at the center and sits down in the chair there, shuffling through the stack of paperwork before him while Felicity wanders toward the window. She looks out over the city, leaning against the wall and sighs. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since she woke up in 2019 and she still feels utterly disoriented. Like she’s drowning in this life she doesn’t remember and she can’t seem to surface for a breath. Her eyes follow the traffic below, memorizing the patterns and counting the cars. Anything to calm her mind down for just a moment. Anything to silence the racing thoughts and quell the panic inside her. She’s so lost in her own head she doesn’t even hear Oliver until he calls her name for the third time.

 

“Huh?” she asks, shaking her head to clear it and glancing over at him where he sits at his desk.    


“I can hear you thinking from all the way over here,” he tells her with a soft, sympathetic smile. He leans back in his leather chair and folds his hands in his lap as he watches her pensively. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” 

 

Felicity just looks at him, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip as she stands there, frozen in place. 

 

“I-” she tries, fingers twisting the hem of her sweater. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to say. I just-” her breathing speeds up again, and she swallows hard, trying to stop the tears she can feel burning her eyes before they start to fall. In no time at all Oliver has crossed the room to her and has his hands on her arms to steady her.

 

“Hey, hey -shh, it’s okay,” he says, and his voice is so soft, his touch so gentle. She tries to suck in a deep breath but it feels like something is sitting on her chest, keeping her lungs from expanding like they’re supposed to. “Come here, honey,” Oliver tells her. His arms wrap around her and pull her against his chest. She stands frozen but lets it happen, lets him hold her tightly and whisper soothing words into her hair. He urges her to breathe with him and she tries her best to sync her breathing with his. Eventually, it works and she can feel the vice around her chest loosen just enough that she doesn’t feel like she’s suffocating anymore. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs into the lapel of his expensive suit jacket as his hand rubs her back in small circles.

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures her. “I know this is a lot to handle. It’s okay to not be okay sometimes.”

 

Felicity lets out a sniffle and pulls back to look up at him. The Oliver Queen she knew had never been this comfortable with emotions. That man’s emotional range had had two settings: stoic and enraged. Yet here he was, looking at her with his blue eyes full of concern, giving her permission to feel whatever it was she had to feel to get through this. She’s still processing this when he reaches to cup her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears from her cheeks. 

“Better?” he asks. She nods as well as she can while he’s still holding her face and he smiles at her before leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good.” 

 

He steps back and watches her for a moment longer, just to make sure she’s not going to fall back into her panic spiral again, she assumes. Then he walks back to his desk and picks up where he’d left off, shuffling through papers, signing his name with a sweep of his pen.

 

“We broke up a few years ago,” he says after a few minutes of silence, so quietly she almost misses it. “And since I’d proposed to you so publically and I was running for mayor at the time, well...it became a spectacle in the media.” Felicity looks to him to continue, waiting with bated breath. “We were apart for just over a year and a half before we decided to try again. We got married a month later on a whim. Near-death experiences tend to bring out the spontaneity in people for some reason,” he adds. 

 

“What happened?” she asks, finally able to speak. “Why did we break up, I mean,” she clarifies. “How long had we been together before that?” Oliver sighs and looks down at the floor for a moment before he answers her, his voice strained and full of guilt.

 

“We hadn’t been together that long. It was kind of a whirlwind from start to finish. It was about nine months altogether, seven before I proposed. We were living together and planning our wedding. Planning our future together...and then I messed up,” he admits. “I took your trust for granted, and I lost you because of it.” Felicity doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to elaborate. Oliver pushes away from his desk and leans forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. “The press liked to speculate that I’d cheated on you- fueled by a handful of women who came forward to dish about my pre-island tendencies, of course.” He stops and scoffs for a moment, shaking his head. “But I never-I  _ would _ never.”   
  
“ We were in Central City helping their team when I found out about William and confronted his mother. She told me that if I wanted to be in his life I had to keep him a secret. From everyone. Including you,” he says, glancing up at her. “I think I was so desperate to know him that I would have done anything she asked of me in that moment. I knew it was wrong. I knew it wasn’t going to end well. But I agreed to her terms and I spent the following months making up excuses to go to Central City to see him. I kept promising myself I’d tell you eventually. That it was for a good reason. We even got engaged while I was hiding this from you.”

 

Felicity can feel the vise tightening around her chest again as he speaks and she has to turn away from him so she can try to get a handle on herself before she loses control again. Oliver pauses for a moment and she can tell he’s studying her, trying to decide if he should go on or if he needs to stop. When he’s satisfied that she’s not about to have another panic attack, he continues.

 

“When you finally found out about William, it was because he’d been kidnapped by someone who was trying to take me out of the mayoral race by attacking my friends and family. You helped us find him and bring him home, but as soon as he was safe with his mom on their way into hiding you told me we were over. I didn’t deserve any less than that. I think I honestly expected you to leave the team, too. But you stayed. You still believed in me even though I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve the faith you had in me. I didn’t deserve a second chance to love you and be loved by you. But I’ve never been more thankful for anything in my life, Felicity.”

 

The conviction in his voice hits her like a ton of bricks and she can hear his desperation without even seeing his face. It’s almost like he’s trying to prove himself to her--to convince her she didn’t make a mistake by choosing him. And even though she still hasn’t quite wrapped her mind around the fact that Oliver is her frakking  _ husband _ , she can’t help but feel her heart break for him a bit at that. 

 

Felicity can’t bring herself to turn around. Instead she keeps her eyes on the skyline out the window and her arms around herself in a protective cocoon. Still, she can feel Oliver’s gaze on her as though he’s burning a hole through her sweater with his eyes. It’s a long, silent moment before that feeling dissipates and she can hear his chair as it rolls back to his desk. The stillness is broken by the clicking of fingers on keys as he begins to type and Felicity lets out the breath she’d been holding, her head falling forward to press against the cool glass in front of her.

 

“I’m finished here, if you’re ready,” Oliver says after what feels like an eternity and Felicity turns to see him closing his laptop and standing. She nods in acknowledgment and follows him to the elevator, the quiet between them grating on her until she feels like she has to say  _ something _ lest she explode. She opens her mouth once, twice, three times--realizing she must look ridiculous and internally scolding herself for being so incapable of managing to spit out a single word. 

 

“This must be hard for you,” she finally says as they’re walking to the car in the underground garage. Oliver tilts his head at her.

 

“What? You mean my wife not remembering being married to me? No, not at all,” he says with a smile and a wink. 

 

“It’s just...a whole lot of suck,” she huffs. 

 

“It is. For both of us.” He reaches out and takes her hand, lacing their fingers together as they walk. “But I know we’re going to get through it.”

 

“How can you be so sure?” she asks, and he squeezes her hand in response, his confidence imbuing her with a bit of her own.

 

“Because we’re us. It’s what we do,” he says simply. They both stop walking for a moment to look at each other, and Felicity feels it in her bones the way he’s smiling at her. His free hand comes up to tuck a rogue curl back behind her ear and her breath hitches. He’s about to speak again when she sees his eyes dart to the side, something behind her catching his attention. In less than a second he has her pressed flat against the rough concrete of the parking garage floor as the sound of a gun echoes loudly around them. 

 

Felicity whimpers, her cheek pressed to the oil-stained ground as Oliver hovers above her, protecting her body with his own while he tries to assess the situation. He rolls them until they’re next to the nearest vehicle and turns her over so she’s looking up at him.

 

“Under the car,” he commands. “I need you safe.” She nods wordlessly, shuffling out from underneath Oliver until she’s completely beneath the black SUV. Oliver, on the other hand, goes right into combat mode, crouching to peek around the side of the car, looking for the assailant. The gunfire stops for a moment and Felicity hears a man’s voice shout from several rows away.

 

“Just give me Felicity Smoak and nobody gets hurt!” 

 

“If you want her you’ll have to go through me!” Oliver growls in return. 

 

“If that’s what you’d prefer,” the man snarks, and another two gunshots go off, bullets clanging as they ricochet off the vehicles around them. Felicity lifts her head just enough to look for Oliver, but she can’t see him anymore and a deep sense of dread fills her as she waits to hear his voice again. It’s a long sixty seconds before she hears the sounds of a scuffle a few yards away. She can’t see anything, but she strains to listen, silent prayers on her lips as she hears the thuds and grunts of the two men fighting. Finally,  _ finally _ Oliver calls for her and she cries out in response.

 

“Oliver! Are you okay?” 

 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he promises her. And then he’s there on all fours next to the car, reaching for her with both hands and pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks, frantic as he looks her over. 

 

“I’m fine. I’m okay,” she tells him. When he seems satisfied that she isn’t injured he falls back so he’s sitting on the cold ground with Felicity in his lap, refusing to let her go. “What happened? Where’d he go?” she asks, her words muffled by his chest. 

 

“He got away--he ran. I’m sorry, Felicity. I’m so sorry.” 

 

Felicity is so shaken she can’t help but hold onto him like he’s her only lifeline, and Oliver buries his face in her hair, breathing her in until the two of them have calmed down and the adrenaline has ebbed. 

 

“Who  _ was _ that?” she asks him as he’s helping her stand up. 

 

“I have no idea,” Oliver says. “But we’re going to find out.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the attack in the parking garage, Felicity finds a bit of normalcy in tracking down the person responsible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thanks to @theMMS for being such a supportive and helpful beta on this. It's truly appreciated <3

“You should let me take a look at that,” Oliver says as they exit the elevator into the bunker. Felicity looks to him in confusion and he nods his head toward where her shirt is ripped and bloodied on the side. 

“It’s just a little road rash,” she insists. “No big deal.”

“Still, we should get it cleaned up so it doesn’t get worse,” Oliver tells her, heading for the medical station near the training mats. He pats the metal table. “Hop up.”

She listens to him reluctantly, hoisting herself up onto the table as Oliver busies himself gathering supplies. 

“You’re gonna need to take your shirt,” he says, pulling the bandages and ointment from one drawer and a clean towel from another. He doesn’t notice at first, his mind on the task at hand, but when he turns around he almost laughs. She’s frozen with wide eyes and reddened cheeks. Holding a cloth in one hand and peroxide spray in the other, he gives her a look and smiles. 

 

“Felicity? Your shirt?” he prompts. 

“It’s really not that bad--just a scrape,” she says. 

“Felicity, honey,” Oliver persists. “I’ve seen you without a shirt on hundreds of times. We take showers together at least once a week. I just want to clean your wound before it gets infected.” 

 

The way she squeaks involuntarily, her face growing even redder at his implication, makes Oliver suppress a smile. He waits until, finally, she sighs and gingerly peels the sweater from her body, leaving her in just a bright yellow bra and her pants. Oliver does his best to keep his eyes trained on the scrapes down the side of her body rather than letting them wander, and he lifts her right arm out of the way to spray the peroxide over her skin. The cold liquid makes her hiss and she winces when he pats the abrasion with a towel until he’s managed to clean all the dirt and blood away. He can’t tell if it’s the cool air of the bunker or the way his fingers glide over her skin that causes her to shiver, but she does her best to hold still, only squirming a little bit on the table as he works. He assumes it’s because she’s cold and in pain--until he notices the flush that’s spreading down her neck and across her chest. It’s one he recognizes well and he has to clear his throat and avert his eyes to stop himself from thinking about just how affected by him she seems to be.

Once he’s finished applying the antibacterial ointment, he reaches for the bandage and tape next, covering the wound and taping the gauze in place. 

“There,” he announces when he’s finished. “You’re all set.”

“Thanks,” she murmurs. Oliver puts the medical supplies away, then hands her his green hooded sweatshirt from where it was hanging on the stool.

“You might have to roll up the sleeves on that, but it’ll keep you warm while we’re down here, at least.”

 

He steps away to clean up the rest of the supplies and wash his hands, giving her a bit of privacy as she pulls on the hoodie. The silence in the bunker is unnerving-he just can’t get used to how quiet she’s been all day. It’s so unlike her that it leaves him feeling off-kilter. 

 

“Where did these come from?” 

Oliver closes the drawer on the cart and turns around to see Felicity, still sitting on the table with the sweatshirt on but unzipped, gazing down at her abdomen. Her fingers trace a line between the two shiny scars on her stomach, her brow furrowed in thought. 

“Gunshot wounds,” he tells her. She looks up at him in surprise. “A few years ago, we were attacked by the same guy who had William kidnapped. You were touch and go for a while, but...” He has to stop for a minute and swallow the lump forming in his throat as the memories of that night overcome him. The way it felt to pull her from the car and see the crimson red spreading, staining her coat. The utter chaos inside of him as he stood outside the operating room in the hospital, her blood still drying between his fingers as he waited for news from the staff. The rage that overwhelmed him and sent him out into the streets night after night, taking it out on any of Darhk's ghosts he could get his hands on. Ripping their lives away the way they’d tried to do to Felicity. The guilt of learning she’d woken up to find him not there like he should have been. The gut-wrenching shame of hearing her wonder if he just didn’t want her anymore, now that she was so broken. 

“So...I was totally fine, then?” she asks, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“You were paralyzed,” he tells her. “From the waist down. They said you had extensive and permanent damage to your spinal cord.”

“But...I can walk.” she counters, confused.

“You can. Thanks to the biostimulant chip implanted in your spine, right about...here.” He moves closer to her until they’re almost nose to nose as his hand slips around her side to her back, underneath the hoodie, and presses gently to the place where that tiny little miracle of technology sits nestled between her vertebrae. She lets out a tiny gasp, and once again Oliver is left to wonder if it’s because of his fingers on her skin or because she’s so taken aback by the information he’s just shared with her. 

“It isn’t foolproof, sometimes there’s a glitch, so we still have a chair here and at home, just in case. But they said you’d never walk again and, well...”

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer?” she grins and he has to return it.

“Of course you wouldn’t. Now, you didn’t create this particular chip. A former friend and business partner of yours created the prototype. But then you took it and improved on it. You’ve modified it to fix nerve damage, spinal injuries of all kinds--even found a way to reverse blindness in one or two people.”

“That’s...that’s kind of incredible,” Felicity whispers, almost to herself. He smiles as he sees her eyes light up with wonder all over again, just like when he’d told her about her company the night before. 

“You are pretty incredible,” he agrees, and she looks up at him with an indiscernible look on her face that has him suddenly aware of just how close they are to each other. He slowly pulls his hand away, watching her shiver as it brushes against her hip, and then he reaches for the zipper on the sweater, pulling on it until it’s all the way up to her chin. “There. It’s chilly down here,” he says, and she nods absently. 

“Yeah. It is.” 

 

They both swallow, frozen in place. His eyes follow hers as they dart down to his lips and then back up again. Her tongue wets her lips before she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Then she takes a breath and speaks again.

 

“So do you think the parking garage has security cameras?”

“They do--I had them installed last year,” Oliver says, and Felicity pushes herself off the table and heads for the dais in the middle of the room where her computers wait for her. He watches her go, noticing how she pauses halfway up the stairs to look down at her feet as she walks. She gives her head a tiny shake and continues, seating herself in her chair and rolling herself up to her desk. She does a double take and grins proudly when the computer takes her retinal scan to give her access. Then her fingers are flying across the keys and Oliver feels a little bit of tension melt away at the normalcy of it; the sound of the keyboard almost soothing. It sounds like  _ her _ .

“I should be able to get a decent shot of his face and then run it through facial recognition. Maybe we can at least get an idea of who we’re dealing with then, if not the why we’re dealing with him,” she announces. 

 

Oliver finishes cleaning up the medical bay and joins her after a few minutes, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he watches her work. She’s so in her element behind a computer that, just for a moment, it’s as though none of it ever happened. She’s just Overwatch: protecting the city by his side. Like she always has. 

“Aha!” she exclaims triumphantly, hitting one last key with a bit of a flourish that makes him smile. “Got you, you big jerk!”

“What do we have?” Oliver asks, leaning over to see her screen better. She turns the computer to show him.

“A clear view of his face and a name: Michael Sutcliffe--AKA Mickey. Twenty-three years old from Central City. Unemployed except for a string of fast food jobs that didn’t last long up until a few years ago when...huh. That’s weird…” she trails off for a second. “It says here that he died in an accident on the same day the particle accelerator exploded.”

“There’s an obituary in the paper and everything,” Oliver notes, reading over her shoulder.

“Yeah, but clearly he is alive and well if he’s attacking people in parking garages in broad daylight,” she says, waving a hand at the screen where she has the security footage on a loop. 

“Let’s get the STAR Labs team on the phone and see what they make of it,” Oliver suggests, pulling out his phone and dialing. He puts it on speaker and sets it down so Felicity can hear too.

“Oliver, hey,” comes Barry’s voice after a few short rings. “How is everything? Is Felicity okay?” 

“She’s okay--she’s--” he pauses and looks down at his wife who gives a small shrug as if to say  _ ‘all things considered I guess I’m fine?’ _ “She’s okay. Listen, we were attacked today by someone from Central City who is supposed to be dead. Felicity is sending you the info she drummed up--” he pauses as she forwards the images and information. “Anybody you guys have heard of?” 

The faint sound of typing in the background goes on for a moment before they hear Cisco respond,

“Yeah--it looks like a match to the guy we got on the security footage from the restaurant where Felicity and Iris were attacked.”

“Wait, so you’re saying the person who wiped my memory was the same guy who shot at us in the garage?” Felicity asks.

“Seems like it,” Barry says.

“If he’s the meta from the restaurant it would explain why the world is supposed to think he died the day the particle accelerator exploded,” Cisco chimes in. There’s a bit more typing before he adds, “And it looks like he’s on his way back to Central City as of a few minutes ago. We’ve got a visual of him at a rest stop about an hour outside of the city.”

“But I thought the restaurant attack was just random,” comes Iris’s voice over the phone. “That’s what everyone thought, right?”

“It can’t just be coincidence that the same guy attacked them in Star City,” Barry insists. “It’s almost like…”

“Like he’s after me, specifically,” Felicity says quietly. She looks up at Oliver, worry and fear etched into her face. “He said so, in the garage,” she adds, and Oliver reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder in comfort. 

“Wait, he actually said that?” Cisco asks.

“He demanded I give her over to him but I fought him off. I don’t think he realized I could put up a fight or he probably wouldn’t have attacked while I was with her,” Oliver assents. “I must have scared him because he ran as soon as he realized he was no match for me.”

“So what do we do?” Felicity asks.

“We track him down and find out why he’s after you,” Barry says. 

“You guys keep eyes on him there and we will too,” Oliver agrees. “If he heads back this way you let us know.”

“Actually,” Cisco speaks up. “You might want to come down here. I think I have an idea of how to help Felicity with the memory thing.” 

 

Oliver glances down at Felicity who looks somewhere between anxious and hopeful. He raises an eyebrow at her in question and she gives another little shrug in response.

 

“Give us a couple of days to get things in order here. I need to have Thea cover at city hall and make sure the team has things under control here. William has another week at science camp, at least. I guess we’re going to Central City.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity have an important talk on their way to Central City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Nicholette for the beta on this chapter since Alejandra and Meg were both on airplanes, switching sides of the country with each other after HVFF and Clexacon today!

Oliver’s eyes are on the road, but his mind is really anywhere but there, if he’s being honest. They’re two and a half hours into a four hour drive south to Central City and Felicity had fallen asleep around an hour into it, leaving Oliver to his thoughts. And wow, does he have a  _ lot _ of those lately.

It’s been two days since he and Felicity were attacked in the parking garage at City Hall, and even though she won’t admit it to him, he can tell she is pretty shaken up by the idea that someone is after her, personally. Her demeanor is so much like it had been years ago when she’d first joined him in his crusade. He remembers the time she’d confided in him how much more affected she’d been her first few weeks on the comms than she’d expected to be. He remembers the way she’d gotten quiet, like this, and not been herself. Back then he’d been just as lost and broken and had no idea how to help her through it. But now? She’d brought him into the light and he wanted to do the same for her--if only she’d let him.

Two nights in a row now he’s heard her thrashing on the couch she still insists on using as her bed, her sobs echoing through the apartment. When Oliver tries to comfort her, however, she insists she’s fine. She was just getting a drink of water or getting some fresh air on the balcony. She plasters on a smile, apologizes profusely for waking him (he wasn’t asleep anyway--he can’t when he’s not wrapped around her, but he won’t tell her that or she’ll just apologize again.) She brushes him off and he can’t bring himself to push her like he usually would. Their whole dynamic is off and it has his whole world spinning off its axis. He’s absolutely terrified that one wrong move on his part will send her running. 

Every time he thinks about it he feels sick to his stomach. After everything the two of them have been through-all the heartache and tears and sacrifices-how is it fair that they’re back to square one all over again. Everything they’ve accomplished in their relationship has been erased like it had never happened in the first place. The rising bile burns his throat the same way the tears burn his eyes and he swallows to keep them both at bay. 

His hands ache with how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, and he has to force himself to relax a little, flexing his fingers to rid them of the stiffness he’s feeling. He steals a glance at Felicity where she’s curled into a ball in her seat, her head resting against her window and her feet tucked underneath her. Even at rest he can read the tension in her face in the way her brow is furrowed and her jaw is clenched. It sends a pang through his chest with how badly he wants to wrap her up in his arms and make it all go away for her. 

But he won’t, because she wouldn’t let him if he tried. He lets out an involuntary growl at the thought and his mind immediately goes back to all the times in the past few days that she’s shuddered or pulled away from his touch. He has to shake his head to shut his brain up because he cannot go down that particular spiral again today.

After a few deep breaths he reaches for the radio, turning it on and lowering the volume so he doesn’t disturb Felicity from what is probably her longest stretch of sleep since all of this began. The music provides a bit of welcome respite from the abyss of his thoughts and he manages a good ten miles before Felicity lets out a small whimper next to him. He frowns and looks over to see her almost writhing in her seat, her face screwed up like she’s going to cry. She lets out a gasp and then a sob and Oliver reaches for her, his hand rubbing small circles on her back. 

“Hey,” he says. “Felicity, wake up.” She doesn’t respond. Instead she gasps again, her fingernails digging into her arms where she’s holding herself tightly. As tears begin to leak from her eyes and roll down her cheeks, Oliver throws on his turn signal and cuts across three lanes of traffic. Pulling onto the shoulder, he jumps out of the car and rushes to the passenger side, unbuckling her even as she fights him, to pull her into his arms.

“Wake up, hon, it’s just a dream--you’ve gotta wake up for me,” he pleads with her. It takes another few moments before her eyes snap open and she pushes on his chest to get away.

“What happened? Where are we?” she asks, frantic as she takes in their surroundings. Her hand comes to her chest as it heaves with her rapid breathing and Oliver puts one of his hands on each of her shoulders to try and ground her.

“Just a bad dream,” he says softly. “You’re safe. We’re almost to Central City.” She nods and blinks at him for a moment.

“Oh.” Her gaze drifts to the highway and she watches the cars speed by for a long moment as her breathing slows. He can feel her still trembling and he rubs her arms up and down, noticing how her eyes close at the sensation. She’s allowing it, for now, but it’s probably only because she’s so shaken up she doesn’t know what else to do. 

“How are you doing? You okay?” he prompts her, and she nods a bit too quickly, forcing herself to smile again.

“Yeah, yeah...of course. It’s just--it was just a stupid dream. I’m totally fine,” she scoffs. “I’m sorry I freaked you out, I promise it’s--”

“You don’t need to apologize. I get it,” Oliver assures her. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Felicity shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable again and Oliver makes himself let her go despite every inch of him screaming at him to hold onto her. When she sits back in her seat and re-does her seatbelt without another word, he dusts off his knees and goes back around to his side of the car and then they’re back on the road again.

 

Felicity has her body turned away from him and her arms crossed as she watches the scenery fly by them out the window and Oliver is nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel again until the awkward stillness moves him to turn the radio back up. They’re three songs in when Felicity finally speaks.

“My mom used to listen to this when I was growing up.” 

“Oh yeah?” Oliver asks, and he turns up the radio as Tom Petty sings about an American Girl, stealing a glance at Felicity who is singing along under her breath and still avoiding Oliver’s gaze. He steals glances at her every few seconds, but she keeps her eyes on the scenery outside her window, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms around her knees.

“I gave her a call the other day to fill her in, by the way,” Oliver informs her as the song winds down. Felicity’s brow furrows in confusion and she looks to him for clarification. “Your mom,” he says, and her eyes go wide, her jaw almost dropping in horror.

“You called my  _ mother _ ?!” she nearly shrieks. 

“Yeeessss…” Oliver says slowly. “It’s not that big of a deal, Felicity.”

“It’s my mother! Of course it’s a big deal! Oh my God this is a nightmare,” she moans, burying her face in her hands, and suddenly Oliver understands why he’s gotten such a dramatic reaction from her.

“I hadn’t met your mom yet,” he says as it dawns on him. “I can assure you that we’ve already muddled through most of the embarrassing moments by now.” He chuckles and watches out of the side of his eye as she slowly lets her hands drop from her face. 

“Do I want to know?” Felicity asks. “I don’t want to know, do I?” 

“Your mom is a wonderful woman. She’s been an incredible grandma to William. Which is nice, because it’s been hard learning how to parent with both of my parents gone,” Oliver tells her, swallowing the lump that forms in his throat at the thought of his mother. 

“Your mom? She’s gone?” Felicity asks. Oliver gives her a small nod.

“Yeah, for a few years now, actually. And it’s been hard, but having your mom has made it a bit easier. I know that the two of you had kind of a rocky relationship, but things are so much better between you now. She lives here for most of the year, but does a lot of traveling, too. And she spoils the hell out of William whenever she can,” he adds with a laugh. 

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Felicity says, shaking her head. “Especially because she’s been on me since I got my first boyfriend at 17 about when I’m going to give her grandbabies.”

“Yes, well, some things never change,” Oliver sighs. 

“She still hasn’t gotten the hint, that I’m not interested, huh?” Felicity asks, rolling her eyes. And Oliver is speaking before he realizes it.

“What do you mean, not interested?” 

“I have never even entertained the thought of having children,” she says, shaking her head vehemently. “No thank you. Hard pass.” Oliver frowns at that.

“Never?” 

“Nope. Not even a little bit,” she maintains. He makes a non-committal noise at that, but doesn’t respond otherwise. It’s Felicity, whose eyes he can feel burning a hole into the side of his head, who pushes the issue. “I mean, I get that you and William were like...a packaged deal or whatever.”

“Mmmhmm,” Oliver agrees, curious about where she’s going with this. He waits for her to continue. 

“But I saw the text message I sent you while I was at a baby shower for Dig’s wife. And it doesn’t make any sense.”

It doesn’t take Oliver long to remember exactly what that conversation had been about. In fact, he remembers it quite vividly because Felicity had been in tears on the bathroom floor over their ninth or tenth negative pregnancy test the night before the party.

“What do you mean?” he asks cautiously. 

“I said I ‘couldn’t wait’ for it to be us,” she says. “And I mean sure, if I’ve learned anything in the last week it’s that a lot can change in six years. But I can’t imagine  _ ever _ changing my mind about something that huge.”

“You were kind of back and forth on it until about a year and a half ago,” Oliver tells her. “Something shifted when your doctor told you that you might not be able to have one at all after the shooting, I think. We’ve been trying for over a year now with no luck. We were actually supposed to go in this week for the first consultation with our fertility specialist.” He tries to say it matter-of-factly, without emotion, but he can’t help the way his throat tightens around the words. He purposely avoids looking to her for a reaction, instead his fingers curl around the steering wheel and his eyes focus on the road ahead of them. He can see Felicity shifting uncomfortably in the seat next to him out of the corner of his eye before she clears her throat and says,

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Oliver insists, his hand instinctively reaching for her. He pulls it back at the very last second, just as she shrinks away from him and hugs her knees closer to her chest.

“So how much longer, do you think?” Felicity asks, making a clear attempt to change the subject. He can’t help but be grateful for it.

“Half an hour, give or take. I got us a room at a hotel near STAR Labs. There are two beds, but I just thought it might make people suspicious if we--”

“Got two different rooms even though we’re married?” she supplies. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want the tabloids going crazy thinking we’re on the outs or anything.”

“Well hopefully we’ll be on our way home and you’ll be good as new by tomorrow,” Oliver says cheerfully. “Cisco is a miracle-worker. If anyone can fix this, it’s him. Then we can put all of this behind us.”

“Right,” Felicity nods, going quiet again.

  
  


The rest of the drive is silent as Oliver navigates through Central City, inadvertently finding himself driving through the park where the two of them had been married. When he recognizes it his breath hitches a bit and he smiles, turning to Felicity whose expression remains unchanged. He considers filling her in for a moment, but changes his mind mid-thought. She doesn’t remember. It wouldn’t matter. They drive by the open, grassy area near the water and Oliver forces himself to remember that it won’t be long until things are back to normal. Until he has his wife back and their lives can go on as they are meant to be.

 

It isn’t until he’s handing the keys to the valet that Felicity utters another word. She’s wheeling her suitcase to the curbside when she asks him if they’re going directly to see the STAR Labs crew.

“Tomorrow morning,” he tells her. “Until then, dinner and sleep, I think.” Felicity shrugs and waits for him to lead them inside to check in at the front desk. He turns on his public mayor persona and flashes a bright smile at the young brunette woman behind the desk. 

“Checking in?” she asks a bit breathlessly.

“We are,” Oliver confirms. “Reservation for Queen.”

“Right. Mr. Queen--I know who you are. Mayor of Star City and all that.” The woman is positively beaming up at him as she speaks. “I grew up in The Glades. You’ve done so much good for the city.”

“Well I’m just trying to do the best I can,” he says. 

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s definitely working,” she responds, and he simultaneously notices the way the woman’s eyes drag up over his chest at the same time Felicity makes a noise of indignation beside him. The woman must finally notice Felicity as well, because her cheeks go pink and her eyes go wide as she apologizes hastily. “Oh! Mrs. Queen, I didn’t see you there!” Felicity quirks an eyebrow at her, entirely unamused, and Oliver has to stop himself from looking confused when she slips an arm around his waist and leans into him possessively. 

“It’s Ms. Smoak, actually.”

“Right. Of course,” the woman says. “Let’s get the two of you checked in, shall we?” She plasters a cheery smile back on her face.

“Thank you so much,” Felicity says, returning the fake smile. “My  _ husband _ and I appreciate it.” Oliver bites his lip and nods his agreement.

“Oh dear,” the woman says after a moment. “It looks like we’ve accidentally got the two of you in a double bed room instead of a king suite. If you give me a moment I can change that for you--”

“No!” Felicity says, a bit too quickly, and Oliver turns to look at her pointedly so she’ll stop talking.

“What my wife means is...we did that intentionally,” he explains. The woman glances back and forth between the two of them for a moment.

“Well if you’re sure that’s what you--”

“We are,” Felicity insists, a bit too forcefully. “Thank you.” The woman raises her eyebrows and shakes her head, reaching behind her to grab their room keys.

“Okay then. Here you go. You’re in room 520 with  _ two _ beds. Enjoy your stay, Mayor Queen, Ms. Smoak.”

 

He’s sliding the keycard in the door a few minutes later when he finally can’t hold back any longer.

“What in the world was that about?” The door falls shut behind them and Felicity hoists her bag up and onto the bed closest to the bathroom wall. She doesn’t reply right away, but takes her time slipping out of her shoes and kicking them towards the closet. “I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he continues when he realizes she has no intention of answering him. “I never have a problem with you marking your territory. But the last thing we need is people starting rumors that our marriage is failing.”

“ _ Marking my territory _ ?” Felicity responds, sounding a bit incensed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that not what that was?” he asks, waving towards the door. She opens her mouth to offer a rebuttal, but nothing comes out. “Just...maybe it would be best if, until Cisco gets all of this memory stuff straightened out, you just let me handle those situations. Okay?” 

“Sure,” she huffs, falling backwards onto her bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I was just trying to play the part,” she adds sarcastically.

“Play the part?” Oliver repeats. Felicity props herself up on her elbows to look at him over the top of her suitcase.

“Yeah. Pretend we’re married and all that.”

“We  _ are _ married, Felicity,” he says, trying to contain his exasperation.

“Right,” she agrees with a nod, flopping back onto the bed again and sighing. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.” Oliver just frowns and lets out a sigh.

“What is going on with you?” he asks. And maybe he sounds a bit more frustrated that he means to. 

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Felicity huffs. “Just forget it.” Oliver hesitates for a long moment, considering his options very carefully before he decides to drop it instead of pushing her when it’s clear she’s itching for a fight. 

“Why don’t we order a pizza?” he suggests, knowing that if there’s anything that will distract Felicity when she’s acting like this, it’s food. She raises her head for a second to eye him with just a hint of suspicion before she shrugs. He takes it for the truce that it is and sits on the bed opposite her to make the order. 

The rest of the night passes with relative ease, despite the thread of antipathy that seems to have woven itself between them. Felicity doesn’t say much, which Oliver finds himself growing a bit too used to these past few days, much to his dismay. It does, however, make it easier for him to avoid pushing her into talking about what is going on in that head of hers. But wow, does he wish his super power was mind-reading right now.

Felicity falls asleep first, with her back to him. It takes him at least an hour to force his brain to turn off as he stares at the back of her head, wishing he could just wrap his arms around her. He finally drifts off, hugging a pillow, to the sounds of her snores in the dark.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity awakens to the sounds of Oliver in the shower and a visit to STAR Labs gets them one step closer to an answer. This chapter is rated M/E

The sputtering of the shower head turning on and the creaking of the pipes running through the wall next to her head is what wakes Felicity the next morning. She rolls to her back, stretching and yawning as she stares up at the ceiling. Everything is blurry without her glasses on, but the lights are still off so she supposes it doesn’t really matter. She lets her eyes fall closed again, trying to hold onto the last bits of sleep, goodness knows she needs it after the week she’s had. Her thoughts drift to yesterday and the conversation she’d had in the car with Oliver. The more she learns about this weird new version of herself she doesn’t even know, the more she feels like she’s being pulled under by a current she can’t escape. She still feels like an single IT girl in her early 20’s who ate way too much takeout and kept to herself, apart from her activities with Team Arrow at night. Oliver was her boss and nothing more. An enigma, dark and brooding. And she was just a girl with a meaningless, unrequited crush on the attractive, usually shirtless vigilante with whom she spent her nights protecting the city. But now? Wife. CEO. Stepmother and, apparently, planning to be an  _ actual _ mother. Married to a man she barely knows, living a life she never asked for. She feels so overwhelmed. And lost. 

She blows the air out of her lungs forcefully, rolling to her side and hugging one of the extra pillows to her chest. She wills her brain to shut up, pleading for some kind of reprieve from the racing thoughts. Just a few more moments of blissful emptiness that only sleep can promise.

It takes a few moments, but she can finally feel herself drifting off again, welcoming the cozy warmth of the bed as it envelopes her. And then her eyes snap open again when she hears Oliver moan in the bathroom. 

 

She shakes her head, because she can’t possibly have heard that right. She must be making it up. The shower is loud, she’s half asleep--it was just her imagination. But then he gasps, his breath hitching before he lets out another low moan. The thin hotel room wall is all that stands between her bed and Oliver, and her eyes go wide as her brain helpfully supplies  _ You know that he’s naked in there, don’t you? _ She throws her arm over her face, like maybe if she hides it will quiet the sounds. But then he cries out.

 

“ _ Fe-li-ci-ty.”  _

 

She can’t help the involuntary whimper that escapes her lips.

 

“No, no, no,” she whispers to herself, bringing her hands up to cover her ears. She cannot think of him like this. She  _ can’t _ . It’s  _ Oliver _ ! But then her mind speaks up again, oh-so-helpful as usual.  _ He’s your husband, dummy. Of course you can think of him like that! _

 

She drops her hands to her sides, her fingers twisting in the duvet cover, drawing her lip between her teeth to gnaw on it.

 

Another gasp and he’s whining her name again and Felicity can’t help how her mind’s eye shows him to her. He’s standing in the shower, the water running over his body, following the cut lines of his abs. His hand is wrapped around his erection as he pumps it faster and faster, her name on his lips.  _ What is he imagining, do you think? _ She asks herself. In his mind’s eye, what is it that’s happening? Is she on his knees for him? Her bright pink lips wrapped around his cock? Is her ponytail wrapped around his hand as she takes all of him down her throat? Or maybe he has her pressed against the shower wall, buried inside of her. Her fingernails scraping down his back as he takes her, emptying himself inside of her.

 

It’s involuntary, the way her hand slowly makes its way under the blanket, dancing along her thigh where the hem of her shorts ends and her skin appears. She doesn’t even realize what’s happening until she’s slipping her fingers under the waistband of her shorts, toying with the lace on the edge of her panties. It’s like she’s daring herself to make another move while simultaneously shaming herself for the thoughts racing through her mind at a hundred miles a minute. Oliver growls out her name and it sounds so much like his voice modulator that she shudders. How many nights had she been on the comms listening to him speak and wanted to do exactly this? How many nights had she gone home to her empty, lonely apartment and gotten herself off to the image of him on the salmon ladder or sparring on the mats? Finally she just stops thinking and gives in.

 

Her fingers dip beneath her panties, brushing over her outer lips and then pressing farther down until she can swirl her middle finger through the wetness already forming between her legs. She slides her finger back up until she can circle her clit, keeping a steady rhythm as she builds herself up. A sharp spike of arousal has her gasping and she immediately brings her other hand to her mouth, biting into her fist as she teases her sex. On the other side of the wall, Oliver is giving a needy whine, and Felicity closes her eyes, willing herself to imagine what he must look like when he comes. His mouth is open, his eyes closed tight. His hand is moving rapidly, squeezing and twisting at the tip before slipping back down his shaft. 

 

_ Do you think he goes down on you?  _ Her mind asks her, and the image of Oliver in the shower is replaced with him looking up at her from between her legs, a playful grin on his face. Instead of her fingertips rolling and teasing her engorged clit it’s the tip of his tongue. She can almost feel his stubble on the sensitive skin of her thighs if she thinks about it hard enough. She can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine at the thought. Cooper had never done that for her, but something tells her Oliver wouldn’t be so stingy. Her face flushes as she considers it and she can’t believe she’s allowing herself to think about him like this when he’s just a few feet away. She wills her hand to stop moving, but then Oliver is groaning, long and deep and even without seeing him, she can tell he’s just reached his climax. Her brain helpfully supplies the image of him spurting over his hand and before she realizes it, her body has caught up to her mind. She catches herself in time to muffle her sounds as her orgasm wracks her body without warning, her back arching up off the bed as her teeth dig into the side of the hand she has covering her mouth. The aftershocks feel like jolts of pure electricity, her hips still undulating as she tries to catch her breath. 

 

She’s just letting herself relax when the bathroom door swings open and then she’s yanking her hand out of her pants and drying her fingers on her tank-top before she tries her hardest to look like she’s still asleep. She has her eyes closed tightly but she can still hear Oliver shuffling around the hotel room as he gathers his things. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. She wills herself not to respond until she feels his hand come to rest on her hip, his touch like a shock to her still over-amped system. She jumps at the contact and he recoils, looking sheepish when she opens her eyes to see him standing above her. Sheepish...and mostly naked. 

“Oh!” she says in surprise when she sees him standing in only his towel, mere inches away from her face. He offers an apologetic smile and she gulps as she watches a droplet of water drip from his hair and slide down his chest and then his abs, disappearing where the white towel is tied off around his waist.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “The bathroom is all yours. I’m just going to get dressed and then, whenever you’re ready, we can head over to STAR Labs.”

“Yeah, uh….” Felicity shakes her head to try and refocus.  _ Don’t let him know you just came at the sound of him touching himself in there.  _  “Sure. I will do that. Take a shower, I mean. I’ll go-” she swings her legs over the side of the bed and grabs her toiletry bag off the desk. Pointing a thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of the bathroom, she backs away from Oliver, who is still standing there, hands on his hips...his incredibly sharp hips where the definitely-not-large-enough towel is slung low enough that she can see the trail of hair leading from his navel to his-

“Felicity!” he yelps when she backs into her suitcase and goes tumbling to the floor. She winces, taking a moment to just lay there on the floor and bask in her embarrassment. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Oliver asks, his voice slightly panicked.

“I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take that shower now,” she huffs, pushing herself up off the ground and pointedly ignoring the hand he has reached out to her. “And try not to embarrass myself in the process,” she mutters under her breath as she walks away. 

 

She shuts the door behind her, a little too hard, and makes quick work of stripping off her pajamas and climbing under the stream of hot water. She groans as the warmth seeps into her muscles, letting her head roll from side to side before that stupid little voice inside of her peeps up again. 

 

_ Oliver was just touching himself in here and thinking of you _ . 

 

Felicity shakes her head to shut it up, reaching for the shampoo and squeezing a dollop into her palm. She works it through her curls and rinses it out before reaching for the hotel-provided conditioner next. The bottle is already half-empty.  _ You know exactly why, _ her brain unhelpfully reminds her.  

 

“Oh my God, stop,” she chastises herself. “What is wrong with you?” 

 

“Felicity?” comes Oliver’s tentative voice from the other side of the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay? Can I get you something to eat?” 

“No, thank you,” she responds.

“Are you sure?” he persists. “You probably should have something--”

“I’m fine,” she says through gritted teeth. And just like last night, she feels an irrational whip of anger course through her. She’s nearly crawling out of her skin at the way he’s mother-henning her, though she can’t pinpoint why. It’s like she needs someone to lash out at and he just happens to be the nearest target. Guilt settles, heavy, in her gut and she takes a breath to calm down before she tries again. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll just grab a bagel or something.”

“Okay,” he says, sounding not at all convinced. “I’ll see you in the lobby when you’re ready, then.” She hears the door to the room open and close behind him, then she lets out the breath she’s holding. 

 

*

 

Twenty minutes later, she’s hastily dressed in a pair of corduroys and a cardigan, wearing her ponytail and glasses like armor. She exits the elevator into the hotel lobby and finds Oliver sitting at a table by the window, just staring at the outside world like he’s lost in his head. She’s nearly right in front of him before he sees her, and his face lights up when he does. 

 

“Hey you,” he says with a soft smile. “I got you coffee from next door,” he offers, holding out a cup to her like it’s a peace offering. She accepts, but opens her mouth to ask what it is. She can’t help that she’s picky, after all.

“I usually just take--”

“One cream, four Sugar in the Raw,” he interrupts. “Just like always. Even though I tell you all the time that much sugar is horrible for you,” he adds with a chuckle. She takes a sip of the coffee, not quite daring to believe him, but it tastes perfect and she can almost feel the irritation melt away at the first taste.

“It’s perfect,” she admits, giving him a shy smile over the top of the cup. He winks in return and she feels her legs turn to jello beneath her, forcing her to reach out for the table to hold onto. “Thank you,” she adds, her voice much more sincere. 

“Of course. We can’t have you start the day without your coffee,” Oliver says, his grin spreading until it crosses his whole face. Even his blue eyes twinkle.

“That would be a nightmare,” Felicity agrees, taking another sip of her drink.

“Oh, I am very well aware,” he says with a bit of an impish grin as he watches her. She raises an eyebrow at him like she’s daring him to continue, but he changes the subject instead.  _ Smart man. _ “Are you ready to head over to the lab?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says. Oliver stands from the table and looks for a second like he’s reaching for her hand before he awkwardly slips his into his own pocket instead and clears his throat before he gestures towards the door.

“Well then, let’s go. I’m sure you’re as anxious as I am to get back to your usual self.” Felicity’s gaze drops to the floor and she can’t help the nauseous feeling that comes over her. 

 

“Yeah,” she manages to agree. “Let’s go.”

 

*

 

The walk to STAR Labs is a short one. It’s only a block from their hotel, and Felicity can’t help but marvel at the building as they make their way down into the belly of it. They come to the end of a long hall and enter a room full of computers and lab equipment, along with an assortment of people involved in an intense discussion.

“Oliver! Felicity!” one of them exclaims when they see the two of them enter the room. 

“You guys made it!” says another. Felicity stays back, hovering in the space behind Oliver as he waves to everyone. 

“Any news?” he asks, cutting straight to the chase.

 

“As a matter of fact,” says a woman at one of the computers. “We have a little present for you in the holding cell down the hall.”

“A Mr. Michael Sutcliffe. Sorry we didn’t get a bow on him before you got here,” the first guy says with a shrug. “How are you feeling, Felicity?” he asks, peeking around Oliver to look at her. She scans the room for a moment, not speaking, before Oliver clears his throat.

“Oh, right. Felicity, I need to introduce you to everyone...again. This is Cisco Ramon,” he says, pointing at the man who had asked how she was. He points at the other man next. “That’s Barry Allen. And Caitlin Snow on the computers.”

Felicity nods her head at them individually, then gives a tiny wave of acknowledgement as she thinks about how weird it is that these people are supposed to be some of her closest friends, despite the fact that she can’t remember a single one of them.

“Iris is at home with the twins,” Barry adds. “But she said she’d be by later to check in. She’s been so worried about you,” he tells her. 

“Has this guy said anything?” Oliver asks, clearly itching to move onto the purpose of their visit as soon as possible. 

“Not yet. We figured if anyone could interrogate him into giving up the goods, it would be our friendly neighborhood Emerald Archer,” Cisco says. He adds, “Which, you should think about if you ever decide you need another name change, B-T-Dubs.” Oliver shoots him a look of incredulity and he shrugs in defeat. “I’m just saying.”

“I’ll suit up,” Oliver announces, hoisting his duffle bag onto his shoulder and heading for a door on the other side of the room. Felicity shuffles nervously from one foot to the other as Team Flash turns to talk to her next. 

“Once your husband is done putting the fear of God into our friend Amnesia, we can get to work on retrieving your memories,” Cisco says to her. 

“I’m sorry, Amnesia?” she asks. Cisco nods proudly.

“Oh yeah, that’s the name I gave the meta who wiped your memory. It’s kind of my thing, naming people based on their powers.” Felicity nods, semi-amused by his enthusiasm. 

“Right.” She laughs nervously.

“Show’s about to start,” Barry announces, indicating the computer screens where Caitlin has pulled up video feed of a strange chamber, inside of which Felicity recognizes the man who had attacked them in the parking garage several days earlier. Suddenly Oliver is stalking into the frame, fully uniformed in a green leather suit she doesn’t recognize. He even has a mask,  _ finally _ . 

“Michael Sutcliffe. Do you know who I am?” he growls at the prisoner, who jumps back from the glass between the two of them and nods timidly. “Good. Then you’ll know that I do what I have to to get the answers I need.” The man merely nods again. “Why are you after Felicity Smoak?” 

“Who?” he asks, but Oliver is in no mood for games.

“You know exactly who she is!” he roars. “You attacked her here in Central City a week ago and came after her again in Star City barely a day later!  _ Why _ ?!”

“I don’t know  _ why, _ man. I just do the job I’m hired to do.”

“Who hired you, then?” Oliver asks through gritted teeth. Sutcliffe just shrugs. “You’re going to tell me who sent you after her, or I’m going to open this cell and put an arrow through your knee.” Sutcliffe looks like he’s considering the challenge for a moment, crossing his arms and studying Oliver through the reinforced glass. 

“Look man, the amount of money they gave me will more than make up for a flesh wound. I ain’t stupid enough to cross a client that powerful.”

“But you’re stupid enough to cross me,” Oliver comments, reaching for the button that will open the door. 

“Oliver, Oliver, Oliver stop!” Barry says over the comms, and Oliver freezes, his hand hovering above the red button. “Really bad idea, man. The last thing we need is both of you walking around with memory loss.”

“I need answers,” Oliver growls.

“Just keep him talking,” Caitlin prompts him. Oliver turns to glare directly into the security camera that he knows they’re watching him through before he continues.

“Why would someone hire you to attack Felicity Smoak?” Felicity can tell he’s irritated that they stopped him from putting an arrow through the guy. Sutcliffe, meanwhile, realizes that he’s safe behind the glass for now and he sits down on his cot, a smug smirk plastered across his face. He leans back against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, thoroughly enjoying how Oliver is reacting to him.

“Something about her company ruining him. He thought if he wiped her memory out she wouldn’t be able to do her job or whatever. But then I go back and he’s all paranoid about getting caught, so he sends me back out with a gun instead.”

“And you don’t have a problem with killing people?” Oliver asks him.

“Nah, man. But if memory serves, neither did you, once upon a time.” Felicity notices the way Oliver bristles at that. How his grip on his bow tightens and his jaw clenches.

“You’re nothing but a lowlife thug who makes a living off of other people’s suffering,” Oliver says, disgusted, his voice low and menacing. 

“Everybody’s got their talents,” Sutcliffe says with a cheery shrug. “Listen, you’re real scary with your bow and arrows out there and all, but I told you I ain’t giving up a name. You’ll have to figure out who’s after her yourself.”

 

“This is your last chance,” Oliver warns him, and Sutcliffe just laughs.

“You seem awful worked up about this broad. The brainy type do it for you? I prefer my blondes a bit on the slow side. I guess I understand the appeal, though. She is a pretty nice piece of ass.” And with reflexes matched by none, Oliver’s hand whips out and hits the button to open the door while almost simultaneously nocking an arrow and letting it loose into Sutcliffe’s thigh. The man lets out a sound like that of a dying animal as Oliver shuts the door on him again and marches out of the room, leaving him to bleed and sob, begging for someone to help him. 

 

Everyone is silent with wide-eyed stares when Oliver comes back into the room. He calmly places his bow on one of the tables, pulls back his hood and slips off his mask. 

“Send that intel to Alena back in Star City, please,” he directs Caitlin. “She and Digg will be able to track down whoever is behind this. I’d like to get changed before we start with Felicity,” he adds, finding her where she’s standing behind the desk. 

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Cisco tells him, rubbing his hands together. “By the way, always a pleasure watching you work,” he adds wistfully as he heads for the next room. 

 

“I’ll be in in just a second,” Oliver assures Felicity, tilting his head in the direction Cisco had just gone. He leans in, squeezing her arm, and speaks so only she can hear him. “All of this will be over soon. Everything will go back to normal and we can get on with our lives.”

 

“Yes, because playing superhero is totally normal.” She grins, expecting him to laugh. Concern ghosts over his face instead.

 

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” he asks.

 

“Well I haven’t been attacked in almost 48 hours, so I’d say we’re doing pretty well,” she says, half-laughing. Oliver tilts his head at her and his voice goes soft as he tells her,

 

“I know humor is kind of your go-to defense mechanism, but you don’t have to be funny for me. You know that, right?” Felicity can’t help the lump that immediately forms in her throat at that, nor the tears that prick her eyes. She feels so vulnerable with him and it makes her feel uncomfortable and indignant all at once. All she can do is shrug at him in return. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise,” he says, for what feels like the one hundred and first time this week. Felicity nods and sighs as Cisco sticks his head out of the next room.

 

“Ready when you are!” 

  
Felicity hesitates, dread growing in her chest as she looks from Cisco to Oliver and back again. Oliver offers what is meant to be a supportive smile, but Felicity feels sick to her stomach at the sight. She wants to tell them she’s not interested and run; back to Star City, back to her old apartment and back to her old life. Instead, she squares her shoulders and does what is expected of her, ignoring the voice in the back of her head as she goes.   



	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco's attempts to bring Felicity's memories back doesn't go as well as planned and it causes some tensions between Oliver and Felicity to boot.

Ten minutes and a lot of tech jargon later, Oliver has a newfound appreciation for just how lost Felicity must have been feeling over the past week.

“So let me get this straight--you’re basically going to go inside my head and extract my memories from behind some kind of firewall?” 

“More or less. The theory is sound, anyway. I’ve been able to access people’s thoughts before. And I’ve been able to plant information too. So once we’re connected--” 

“You’re going to hack my brain. Got it.” Felicity cuts Cisco off.

“That’s probably the best way to put it, yeah.”

“And you’ve done this before?”

“Well not this,  _ exactly _ , but something similar once or twice.”

“Something...similar.”

Oliver watches Felicity gulp, her face awash with worry and concern as she surveys the room full of people watching her. He hasn’t understood a word of Cisco’s explanation about how he’s going to use his metahuman powers to return Felicity’s memories, but Cisco seems confident and Felicity seems to have gotten the gist of it, so he supposes that’s all that matters. 

“Ready when you are,” a voice pipes up from across the room. Caitlin’s got several wires running between her computer and Felicity so she can monitor brain activity, heart rate, oxygen levels and more. Oliver’s fingers rub together nervously at his side as he takes it all in, but he shoots Felicity a look of encouragement when she looks to him for support. 

“It’s going to be fine,” he says, trying to reassure the both of them. “You’ll be yourself again in no time and we’ll be on our way home to Star City in the morning.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice wavering. “What if something goes wrong?” 

Cisco and Caitlin exchange a look before Cisco answers.

“Well...we don’t really know. It could just be that nothing happens.”

“Okay but what if it’s not nothing? What if it’s  _ something _ ?” Felicity persists.

“I guess, in theory, it could make the memory loss worse...Or permanent,” Caitlin says solemnly. “Trying to break through the barrier could, in theory, make it stronger.” 

Felicity nods slowly and Oliver can see the gears turning in her head as she considers all angles of the problem. It’s something he’s always been mesmerized by when it comes to her: how fast her mind works. She doesn’t say anything aloud, but he knows she’s thinking of probabilities and statistics and weighing the pros against the cons. It’s when she looks up at him, the look in her eyes part apprehension, part longing-- something he hasn’t seen in her for years, that she squares her shoulders and gives a terse nod to Cisco.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Oliver lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and offers her a smile he hopes is encouraging as Cisco puts on his equipment. She attempts to smile back at him, but it ends up being more of a brief twitch of her lips before she’s pressing them back into a thin line again, her finger twisting anxiously around a frizzy curl where it’s pulled back into a low ponytail. It suddenly strikes Oliver just how young she seems in this moment. So unlike the powerful, fierce, composed woman he’s come to know. He’s reminded of the girl who drove him to the foundry as he bled out in her car-- awkward and unsure and  _ innocent _ , just trying to find her purpose in the world. So unaffected by the darkness he would end up bringing into her life. His heart aches at the thought and he has to swallow the lump forming in his throat. 

“Ready?” Cisco asks, and Felicity nods. “Okay. Here we go.” 

Oliver stands back so Cisco can take his place in front of Felicity. She takes a breath and flinches away as Cisco’s hands make contact with the sides of her face.

“Don’t worry--I’ll let you know before I start,” Cisco tells her, his voice gentle as he tries to calm her. “On the count of three, okay, Felicity?” She nods again and Oliver sees her steel herself as Cisco counts down. 

“One...two...three!” 

Felicity yelps as Cisco’s powers begin coursing through her head, her fingers digging into the metal table where she’s sitting, and Oliver instinctively starts towards her before he catches himself. Cisco maintains their connection for thirty seconds or so before he lets go and gives her a moment to catch her breath. Oliver can see the way she’s shaking from head to toe, her chest heaving as she tries to regain control.

“Take a second and we’ll go again,” Caitlin says. “Vitals still look okay.”

“Count of three,” Cisco tells her again. “One...two...three!” He begins again and this time Felicity cries out, a pained wail that has Oliver’s chest tightening as though he’s feeling it right along with her. By the third attempt, he feels every line of agony etched on her face and he has to hold onto something to keep himself from punching Cisco. On try number four he can’t hold back anymore. He’s lunging toward Cisco when suddenly Barry’s hands are on his chest, holding him back and trying his best to calm him down with frantic whispers so he doesn’t break Cisco’s concentration.

“She’s going to be okay, man. She’s going to get through this.” Oliver makes another attempt to get to Felicity, but Barry pushes against him with his full strength and Oliver responds by grabbing Barry’s shirt in both fists and pushing until he’s got him up against a wall. Barry just gives him a sympathetic look and sighs. “Hey--why don’t you take a walk for a minute? I’ll stay with her. Go calm down--before you do something you’ll regret.”

              Oliver glares at him, his chest heaving with anger and anxiety, before he lets him go and steps back, running his fingers through his hair. He tries to breathe deeply, but Felicity’s next scream seems to echo off the walls at a mind-shattering frequency and he has to take Barry up on his offer, excusing himself into the hallway just long enough to steady his breathing again.  
It goes on for what feels like days but is only a matter of hours with a couple of breaks so Felicity can drink some water. She tries to eat but only gets three bites into her sandwich before she’s heaving and throwing up into the nearest garbage can while Oliver rubs her back. 

Cisco takes some time to recalibrate after that, letting Felicity lie down to rest while Barry heads home to check on Iris and the twins, but then they’re back at it again an hour later.

 

>>>\---------------------------->

 

“You can do it Felicity, come on!” Oliver urges. Felicity frowns in pain, turning red with the effort. Sweat beads on her forehead and she lets out a primal scream that shakes him to his very core. Cisco steps back, removing his hands from where they’d been framing Felicity’s face. 

“I’m sorry Felicity--one more time okay?” he asks. “Let’s try one more round and then we’ll take another break. I can feel it--we’re so close. It’s hazy, but it’s there. The wall is thinner every time I go in.” Felicity doesn’t protest, but she whimpers when Cisco’s palms make contact with her temples again and her eyes shut tightly, like she’s willing herself not to cry. With a deep breath Cisco begins again and Felicity lets out the most pitiful sound Oliver’s ever heard out of her. Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes and Oliver has put his hands in his pockets, pacing back and forth across the room to keep from reaching out for her. 

“Please!” she shouts through clenched teeth. “Enough!” Cisco immediately stops, moving away to give her space, her breath coming in short, labored gasps and her hands clenched in tight fists by her sides. “I can’t...I can’t do it,” she cries.

“You can,” Oliver assures her. “You can do it, baby, I know you can.” Felicity shakes her head at him but he just nods in return and continues. “You’re so strong, Felicity. We’re so close. I know you can do this, hon, you just have to--”

“STOP!” she pleads, cutting him off mid-sentence. Oliver pauses as Cisco and Caitlin both take a step back. “Just stop.  _ Please _ ,” she sobs. Her lower lip trembles before she pulls it between her teeth anxiously. The room goes silent, the tension thick, all eyes on Felicity. Her arms wrap around her middle and she curls into herself, like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible, shaking slightly as Oliver turns to the others.

“Could we have the room?” he asks softly. Caitlin and Cisco excuse themselves hastily, almost running each other over in the process. It isn’t until the door closes behind them that Oliver looks back to Felicity. He reaches for her hands and tries to hide the pain he feels when she immediately recoils from him, jerking her arms away so she remains just out of his reach.

“Please,” she whispers, shaking her head.

“Talk to me, Felicity,” he implores, but she just shakes her head no again, turning away from him so he can’t see her fighting back the tears again. “Hey--it’s okay if--”

“Just go,” she manages to say, her voice breaking. “Just go! ”

“Felicity,” Oliver says, his brow knitting together. “Look, I know how frustrating this must be for you, but if we just--”

“No!” she shouts, her volume spiking and causing him to jump in surprise. “Just stop! This isn’t working, okay? You aren’t gonna fix me. I’m not  _ her _ anymore. I’m not your wife! I’m not  _ your _ Felicity and now we know that I’m never going to be again so would you  _ please _ just  _ leave _ ?!” She’s screaming at him hysterically as tears stream down her face. She looks so utterly broken that Oliver’s chest tightens as his own eyes fill with tears. He would give anything in the world to help her--to make her feel better--if only she’d let him. 

Oliver swallows the lump in his throat and takes a deep breath before he speaks again.

“Is that what you want?” he finally asks, his voice measured and soft despite the desperation he feels in that moment. It throws Felicity off and she takes a shuddering breath, wiping her tears away on the back of her hand.

“It’s easier this way, isn’t it?” she asks wiping at her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand as she continues her frantic diatribe. “You keep wishing and hoping that I’ll get my memories back and be  _ her _ again but it’s not going to work! It’s not going to happen! So will you just  _ give up _ and leave now? That way you won’t be disappointed when you finally realize it and--”

“Hey, hey--what are you talking about?” he asks incredulously, moving to take her hands in his. She tries to pull away again, but this time he doesn’t let her. 

“You want your wife back,” Felicity states simply. “I’m not her. Not like this. And I will never be her again.”

“We’ll find a way,” Oliver insists. “We always do.”

“No, we won’t!” Felicity says. “It’s better that you leave now instead of leaving when you finally realize she’s not coming back. Better for both of us.” She says it with such certainty, such  _ finality _ that it knocks the wind out of him. All he can do is gape at her for a moment before he reaches to cup her face in his hands.

“Can we please just go?” she asks, refusing to meet his gaze. He nods, using his thumbs to wipe the tears she missed away from her cheek. When she jerks away from him, out of reach once again, his hand hovers for a second in thin air before he awkwardly pulls it back. 

“I’ll let them know that we’re done and we’ll head back to the hotel,” Oliver says. He has so much more he wants to tell her--so much he needs her to know. But he can tell he’s fighting a losing battle right now, and he knows he isn’t going to do anything but make the situation worse if he pushes her right now. So instead of doing anything he can to make his wife believe him, he leaves the room and informs their hosts that they’ll be leaving, and that he has no idea if they’ll be coming back.

They’re blocks away from STAR Labs before he says anything, his mind going in a hundred different directions with all the things he wants to say, should say, needs to say. He settles with,

“I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard today. I didn’t mean to make you feel like--” He watches as Felicity’s eyes close and she huffs, frustrated as she wipes at her cheeks. He hadn’t realized she was crying as they walked down the sidewalk. “I know this is hard for you. But it hasn’t exactly been easy for me either.”

“I’m so  _ sorry _ I’m being targeted by a crazy person who wants to kill me. That must be so awful for  _ you _ ,” she bites out. She sounds slightly hysterical, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stalks away from him.

“You’re my wife, Felicity. And I love you,” he says sincerely. “Of course it’s--”  
“Can you please stop that?” she interjects. He opens his mouth to ask what she means but she stops in the middle of the sidewalk and whirls around to face him. “Stop. Okay? I didn’t ask for any of this-- all I want is to go home. To _my_ apartment and _my_ life.” Her tears are flowing now, leaving trails down her cheeks as she pleads with him. 

“Hey,  _ hey _ \--” he says, taking a step towards her. She steps back, putting distance between them and holding her hands up to stop him. He puts his own hands up to concede, not moving any closer. “Take a breath,” he coaches her. She does so, inhaling as deeply as she can, trying her hardest to calm down. 

“I don’t want to go back there,” she says after a long moment. Oliver can hear the fear and trepidation in her voice, as though she’s scared he’s going to drag her back to the lab against her will. Her eyes are filling with tears again as she pleads with him.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Oliver reassures her. “And I don’t want you to feel obligated to live this life if you don’t want to,” he adds softly. Felicity’s eyes narrow at him as she tries to make sense of what he’s saying to her. 

“Are you offering a divorce?” she asks with a humorless laugh. The word alone feels like an arrow to his chest, but he swallows the lump in his throat and gives a short nod.

“If that’s what you want,” he chokes out. “All I want is for you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he insists. She deflates a bit at that and holds his gaze, studying him like she’s trying to figure out if he’s telling the truth. The fact that she doesn’t trust him implicitly anymore is hard to swallow. 

“I’ll think about it,” she says quietly, her hands in her pockets as she looks up at him timidly. He can tell it’s her way of ending the argument--accepting that he’s not out to hurt her--and he can breathe a little easier for it. He looks up and sees that they’ve somehow made it back to their hotel and he gestures to the door, allowing her to enter ahead of him. 

They’re silent again as they ride the elevator to the top floor, Felicity avoiding eye contact as they listen to the light music playing over the speaker. He’s still watching her when the ding of the elevator makes her jump as it comes to a stop on their floor. 

“You okay?” he asks gently. Felicity takes a breath and just shakes her head at him, trying to brush him off. 

“I’m fine. Just...today took a lot out of me,” she admits. He nods in understanding and steps out of the elevator, holding the door for her.

“I’m here. If you want to talk about it.” He sees the moment the fear overcomes her again, her eyes welling up as she shakes her head again, more adamantly this time.

“No. No, I’ll be okay. I’ll be fine. I promise.” 

He doesn’t believe her, not for a moment, but she pushes past him and heads for their room without another word, leaving him no choice but to follow. She’s already in the bathroom with the sink running by the time he gets in the door, and he sinks down into the armchair in the corner of the room to wait for her, taking a moment to reply to a text from Barry asking if they’d made it back. When she exits the bathroom in her pajamas, face washed and hair in a messy bun on top of her head he has to suppress a smile. Despite everything that’s happened today, he can’t help himself. He loves her like this when they’re at home--free of the armor she wears in the form of her impeccable clothes and pristine makeup. He can count every single freckle on her face, a favorite pastime of his when they’re lying in bed together and he wakes up before she does and wow: he’s never realized before how much you can miss someone who is standing right in front of you.

“What?” she asks, frowning at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s...it’s nothing,” he tells her. He pushes himself up out of the chair and hovers for a moment as she stores her toiletry bag in her suitcase along with her clothes from the day. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” he says, making his way towards the door. He feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin and he could really use some time alone with his thoughts. 

“Wait, where are you going?” she asks. She sounds panicked, concern etched into her face as she follows him around the bed. 

“I’m just going to take a walk and get some fresh air. Clear my head,” he assures her. He sees the uncertainty in her eyes and he takes a step towards her. This time she doesn’t pull back, allowing his hands to land on her arms. “I’ll come back,” he promises. “I’ll always come back.” She gives him a tiny nod and he lets go of her, watching as she steps back and sits down on the end of the bed. “Just get some rest, okay? I lo--” he catches himself at the last second, his front teeth digging into the tip of his tongue until he’s pretty sure he can taste blood. “I’ll--see you in the morning,” he corrects himself. 

“Yeah,” she replies and Oliver forces a smile and turns to leave, letting the door fall closed behind him. He’s in the elevator when he pulls out his phone and sends a text to Barry:

_ Time for a beer? _

In true Flash fashion, his reply is instantaneous.

_ See you in five. _

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity has another nightmare.

It’s a bit colder than a breeze in mid-May has any business being as Oliver starts his walk back to the hotel. He’d been prepared to drown his sorrows when Barry showed up, but they were only half a beer in each before Iris had texted him to come home. The twins were teething and she insisted that it was his turn, so Barry apologetically told him to have a safe trip home and to keep him updated on Felicity’s condition before he paid his bill and left. Oliver finished his own drink and left a ten on the bar shortly afterwards.

He’s lost in his own thoughts when his phone rings and he’s surprised to see John’s name when he extracts it from his pocket. 

“Any news?” Oliver asks as he answers the call.

“Alena is working a few leads, but nothing solid yet. How’s Felicity?” he adds the last part with an air of caution, and Oliver lets out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

“She’s...not good,” he admits. “I mean, she’s not hurt,” he adds when he hears John take a sharp breath. “But she doesn’t...she doesn’t want to go through with the treatment. And I don’t think…” Oliver has to take a moment to swallow the lump in his throat before he can continue. His eyes burn with the tears he’s holding back but he clears his throat and tries again. “I’m not really sure what to do anymore. It’s like she doesn’t want this--this  _ life _ \--at all.”

“What are you saying, Oliver?” John asks him, and Oliver feels the panic building inside of him as he tries to put into words what had happened between he and Felicity earlier.

“I think we might--that she isn’t--” he can’t do it. He can’t say it. If he says it, that makes it true and he can’t handle the possibility that after everything they’ve had to go through to get to this point that his wife might end everything because she has no memory of any of it.

“You think she’s going to leave you?” John asks incredulously. “Over  _ this _ ?”

“She said she’d think about it,” Oliver tells him. “John I can’t--I can’t lose her.”

“You’re not going to lose her. You two have been through so much worse. She’s just trying to come to grips with how different her life is now, that’s it.”

“And what if she decides she doesn’t want her life to be like this?” Oliver asks, voice shaking. He asks the question even though he’s terrified of the answer he might receive. 

“That’s her choice, Oliver,” John says softly. “You know that and I know that. But if I know Felicity--and I do--she needs to  _ know _ that we know that. She doesn’t feel in control, right now. And you know better than anybody what that does to her.” Oliver nods to himself at that. John is absolutely right--there’s nothing that terrifies Felicity more than feeling out of control.

“Maybe,” Oliver begins as a thought crosses his mind. “Maybe this isn’t a bad thing, though? Think of all the things she won’t remember--all the things she’s gone through since she met me that she won’t have to remember anymore. She’ll be free of all of that.” It’s a naive way of thinking about it, but maybe he’ll be able to handle the possibility of losing her if he frames it this way. 

“Maybe,” John echoes. “But Felicity is the woman she is today because of her experiences.  _ All _ of her experiences,” he reminds Oliver. And he knows it’s true, just like he knows he’s the man he is because of everything he’s endured over the years. But if there was even a small chance he could save her from all of that pain, is there any price he wouldn’t pay? He sighs again and stops walking, just as he approaches the hotel’s revolving door.

“I just don’t want her to think any of this changes the way I feel about her,” Oliver says, pausing to lean against the brick wall. “She’s _always_ been the one. Even if it took me a hell of a long time to figure that out for myself.”

“Then tell her that, man,” John urges him. Oliver nods again, oblivious to the fact that John can’t actually see him agreeing. “Get some sleep and I’ll see the two of you tomorrow, okay?” John tells him. 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow,” Oliver says. 

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

“Goodnight. And thank you,” he adds with a smile.

“Anytime. What would you two knuckleheads do without me?” John teases.   
Oliver hangs up the phone and slides it back into his pocket, carefully weaving his way through the revolving door and heading for the elevator. He stays lost in his thoughts all the way back to the top floor. 

 

>>\--------------------------->

 

_ Her lungs burn as they struggle for oxygen but she keeps running. She doesn’t feel the pain in her shins or the stitch in her side, all she feels is the sheer panic and terror that propels her forward. She doesn’t stop to look before she crosses one street and sprints down a narrow alley between two buildings. The thundering sounds of traffic above her drown out her frantic heartbeat as she makes her way under the freeway overpass to squeeze through a chainlink fence. Finally, she yanks open the heavy metal door at the back of the police precinct, following the map on her phone as the little green dot there blinks, unmoving in front of her eyes. She gasps aloud and has to cover her mouth when she sees the trail of bodies littering the hallway before her, but the voice in her head begs her to move. To find him. To bring him home. So she does--she steps over one officer and skirts around another until she comes to the hallway that will lead her into the main office of the precinct. That’s where she’ll find Oliver. She prays that his beacon is so still because he’s making the choice to walk away rather than it being because she’s too late. She rounds the corner just in time--he’s about to reach for the door.  _

_ “Don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t!” she pleads frantically, her voice causing him to turn and nock an arrow before he realizes it’s her. “Do not...open that door. On the other side of that door there’s a bunch of trigger-happy cops just waiting for you. It is a trap.” _

_ “You’re not here!” he growls, pointing an accusing finger in her direction. She puts up a hand to try to calm him as he advances towards her, his eyes wild in a way she hasn’t seen in years. She knows she should be afraid, but she never has been before. She knows--she believes with every fiber of her being--that this man would never harm her.  _

_ “Yes I am. It’s me, okay? It’s the real me,” she insists. “Do not go through that door,” she begs him, tears threatening her voice. _

_ “I have to,” Oliver tells her. “I have to stop Diaz.” _

_ “And you will!” Felicity promises him. “But not like this. Not toni--” _

_ “He is right on the other side of that door!” Oliver roars at her. _

_ “So are a bunch of angry cops just waiting for you!” she whisper-shouts back at him. “You go through that door and what happens to William?” Oliver’s face softens for a split second at the sound of his son’s name before he replies. _

_ “William has you.” Felicity’s heart breaks at how defeated he sounds. It’s so Oliver to assume the people who love him would be better off without him, and she can’t help but respond with, _

_ “Well, what happens to me?” Oliver’s eyes narrow at her, looking so betrayed as he stares her down. Bitterness taints his words when he finally speaks. _

_ “You left.” He’s sounds so broken. So destroyed over the prospect of losing her that he was willing to commit suicide and Felicity wants to throw her arms around him and hold him and promise him the world. She knows, though, that it wouldn’t be the best idea given the hallucinogenic still working its way through her husband’s system. Instead, she continues to try to talk him down. To reassure him.  _

_“No, I didn’t. That was not me, Oliver.” She takes a few hesitant steps towards him, closing the gap. He doesn’t back away, so she continues. “The real me? Is standing right here. And I’m not going anywhere,” she promises. “I’m glue, baby. Please.” She can feel a lump forming in her throat as her eyes fill with tears again. She has to make him believe her. He has to trust her. He_ has _to._ _  
__“The Vertigo is making its way through your system, okay? It’s on its last gasps so just--just_ listen _,” she begs him, taking another step closer until she can reach for him. “Listen to my voice.” Oliver presses his lips together into a thin line before his tongue darts out nervously to wet them. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, fists clenching in apprehension._

_ “I know it feels like you’ve lost everything,” she tells him. _

_ “I don’t know how to tell if you’re real,” he admits. His voice is so shaky, she can tell just how hard he’s trying to believe her, and she knows all he needs is that last little push to get there. Something tangible to tether him to reality before the riptide of his hallucination pulls him back under. _

_ “That’s just the Vertigo,” she assures him. “It’s just messing with your head. Don’t trust it. Okay? Listen to your heart--” she presses one hand to his chest and suddenly the world is spinning around her. Her legs give out and everything goes dark as she watches Oliver stumble towards a wall and slide down it, leaving a trail of blood as he goes down. _

_ “Oliver!” she shouts, panicking when he doesn’t respond. She calls his name several times, but his eyes flutter shut. She tries to stand but her legs won’t hold her and she falls to the floor. It doesn’t stop her from pulling herself over to him. “Hey! Hey, hey, hey!” she grabs his face and he immediately comes to at the feel of her touch, looking dazed and bewildered. “You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” she tells him. _

_ “I think I’m losing a lot of blood,” he says. _

_ “Tell me something I don’t know,” she huffs. _

_ “I’m so sorry,” he says, his breathing labored. A thin sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead in the purplish light given off by their emergency lanterns, and Felicity can tell how much of a struggle every word is for him. _

_ “You know, normally I’d relish an Oliver Queen apology but this sudden admission is making me nervous,” she babbles. She’s been waiting to hear those words from him for months, if she’s being honest, but now it seems so trivial. So unnecessary. Why is he insisting on this now of all times?  _

_ “You were right,” he interrupts her. “I didn’t have your back. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want you to end up like me, Felicity. It was much more than that.” Felicity nods slowly. _

_ “So lots of blood loss with exposure to toxic gas makes you go crazy, now we know that.” She’s desperate to make him stop talking and save his energy. She cups his cheek, her thumb stroking over his jawline in an attempt to calm him down, but he persists. _

_ “I need you to hear this.” _

_“And I will. Later,” Felicity tells him, letting her hand find his chest._ _  
__“I might not have a later,” Oliver says._

_ “Do  _ not _ talk like that,” she admonishes, her voice panicky. _

_ “I need you to know the truth.” He sounds so desperate to get it out that she can’t bring herself to fight him anymore. _

_ “About what?” she asks softly. _

_ “I didn’t have your back,” he repeats, his words slurring. “But it was not because of you. Or a lack of trust. It was because of me. It was because of me.” Felicity’s fingertips press just a little more firmly against Oliver’s pulse point, needing to feel his heartbeat for herself. He holds her gaze, his blue eyes filling with tears as he continues. “I’m not the man you think I am. I’m not the man you fell in love with. I put the hood on to right my father’s wrongs but the basis of it--the...the foundation of it. And what you did and what Digg did and what the team did in my name? It was all based on a lie.” _

_ “What are you talking about?” she asks him, bewildered by where all of this is coming from suddenly.  _

_ “Chase,” Oliver clarifies. “He showed me when he held me hostage that I didn’t do what I did to be a hero. I did what I did--” he pauses for a moment, like he’s terrified to go on. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he takes a shuddering breath. “Because a part of me, a bigger part than I would like to admit...I enjoyed it.” He sounds disgusted with himself, but Felicity just feels her heart break all over again for him. Whatever that monster did to Oliver, he would pay for it if it was the last thing she ever did.  _

_ “I enjoyed killing,” he whimpers. His eyes well up with tears again and he can’t stop them this time as they begin to spill. “It’s not about not trusting you--I will always trust you,” he promises her. The look in his eyes is so piercing that she can feel it to her very core. “I don’t trust myself,” he says, sounding so ashamed. So pitiful. His eyes begin to fall closed and Felicity’s panic spikes all over again. _

_ “Oliver,” she pleas, “Oliver. Don’t.” Both of her hands come up to frame his face as she begs him to open his eyes. He doesn’t, though, and she starts to sob as she watches him slip away, welling up with regret  as she calls his name over and over. She implores him to come back to her, her voice breaking as she sobs, “Oliver! Come back! Come back, Oliver!”  _

 

“Oliver, please! Come back--please no--” she sits up with a gasp, opening her eyes to see her hands outstretched before her, reaching for Oliver. But he isn’t there and she feels a bit disoriented until she feels the bed move with the weight of someone sitting down on the edge of the bed and a pair of arms embrace her. She lets out another loud sob, leaning into his touch and breathing him in as he strokes her hair and whispers to her.

“Hey, hey--it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he assures her. She turns into him, burying her face in his neck and holding onto him tighter, her fingers fisting in the material of the gray t-shirt he’s wearing. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, Felicity. I’m right here.”

“Oliver?” she whimpers, and his arms just tighten around her in response. Her own arms ache with how tightly she’s holding onto him.

“It’s me, Felicity. It’s me. I’m here.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs into his neck. “I’m so sorry. I thought I lost you and I--I’m so sorry.” She can’t help the panicked mantra as she repeats it over and over again, but Oliver just holds her and presses his cheek to hers in comfort. 

“It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re not gonna lose me. Not ever,” he promises. 

“There was so much blood--and you--and my legs--” she speaks between gasps for air until Oliver pulls back just enough to cup her face in his hands and make eye contact. “It felt so  _ real.  _ Oh God...It just felt so  _ real _ .”

“Take a breath,” he coaches her. She tries, but she just can’t get oxygen into her lungs. She hasn’t had one in years, not since she had to defend her dissertation in grad school, but she knows it’s a panic attack. “Felicity, hey--” Oliver says gently, holding her gaze. “Breathe, honey. Just breathe. It’s okay.” 

He talks her through breathing until she’s finally able to mimic him, her heart rate slowing as she starts to breathe on her own again.

“Thank you,” she manages after a long moment of silence. Oliver gives her a sympathetic smile and starts slowly rubbing her back until she can’t help but melt back into his embrace. He stiffens for a moment, frozen in surprise, but he wastes no time in wrapping her up in his arms again. 

“You never need to thank me,” he whispers against her hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and she opens her mouth to speak, but clamps it shut again when she feels the same overwhelming panic and terror start to rise in her chest all over again.

“I was just...I thought you were gone and I…” she rambles, choking on the words as they spill from her lips. “I’m so sorry, Oliver. For tonight, and yesterday and--”

“It’s okay,” he says, but she shakes her head and pushes against his chest so she can look at him again.

“It’s not,” she insists. “You’ve been nothing but understanding and patient and sweet--so,  _ so _ sweet. I was kind of a brat. And I’m sorry,” she says, and he cracks a playful smile that says he isn’t about to argue with that assessment.

“I know,” he says. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“But you didn’t deserve me lashing out at you like that. So I’m sorry,” she repeats. She bites her lip and looks down at the duvet cover, picking absently at a loose thread there. She feels so awful for her outburst earlier. It makes her feel sick to her stomach and she really just needs him to know she didn’t mean to be so horrible. 

“Apology appreciated and accepted,” he tells her. “But really, I just want to make sure you’re okay. And I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard to do something you weren’t ready for.”

“You want your wife back,” Felicity says. “I get it.” Oliver sighs and shakes his head at her, taking her hands in his own. Felicity gulps, her gaze falling to where their fingers are entwined, the calluses on his fingertips making her shiver as they run over her palms.

“ _ You _ are my wife,” he says, squeezing her hands. Felicity has to swallow the lump in her throat at that, and for the first time since all of this began she doesn’t feel the pressing urge to pull away from him. Rather, the echoes of the urgent fear from her nightmare have her holding on more tightly, needing to reassure herself that he’s still there. They stay like that for a long moment until Felicity is stifling a yawn. Oliver stands so she can lay back down, but before she can stop herself the words are out of her mouth.

“Would you stay?” 

Oliver tilts his head, confused.

“Sit with you until you fall back asleep?” he asks, his voice somewhere between surprised and hopeful. Felicity’s cheeks burn with embarrassment when she hears him say it aloud and she tries to backpedal immediately.

“You don’t have to--I didn’t mean to--it’s stupid, I just--”

“Absolutely,” he interrupts her, nodding as a grin takes over his face. “Are you sure, though? I don’t want--if you don’t--”

“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments,” Felicity teases him, a shy smile on her lips. They look at each other for a full ten seconds like they’re waiting for the other one to laugh and play it off like it’s one big joke, but then Felicity makes herself scoot over so Oliver can fit next to her. He tentatively arranges himself so he can lean back against the headboard, but he opens his arms so she can curl up next to him, resting her head on his chest right over his heart. “Thanks,” she whispers, a bit breathlessly as it sinks in just how intimate a position they’re in. Oliver makes a vague noise of affirmation and she wiggles around for a second until she’s comfortable, sighing in relief at the sense of comfort that fills her as she relaxes into his embrace. 

“I meant what I said, you know,” he murmurs, his voice heavy. She can tell he’s just as exhausted as she is after the day’s ordeal. Felicity hums in question and he continues. “You’re not gonna lose me. It’s like you told me once; I’m glue.” The phrase hits Felicity right in the gut--she’s never talked about that before. Not to anyone. But then she remembers a moment in the dream she just had. It’s hazy now, blurring together and fading quickly from her mind’s eye, but she can still feel that desperation she felt then. She can still see the look in Oliver’s eyes behind his mask as she’d begged him to believe her. “ _ I’m glue, baby.”  _

“My mom used to say that to me when I was a little girl,” she admits. “After my dad left...I used to have nightmares that she’d left me too. I’d wake up crying and she’d just hold me and say ‘I’m glue, baby girl. You’re stuck with me.’” Felicity chuckles at the memory and how ironic she’d found it later whenever she’d feel like her mom was a little too involved in her life. She wonders if their relationship is still as strained as she remembers it. She’s honestly surprised when she finds herself hoping that it isn’t. Life’s just full of surprises lately, it seems. “It was because of this song--I think it came out when I was around three or four and she used to sing it to me all the time. The band was like... The Velvet Under--”

“I’m not him, Felicity,” Oliver interrupts her ramble, his voice soft.

“I know,” she whispers as her fingers nervously trace patterns on his chest.

“You don’t,” he counters. “Not yet. But you will. I promise you...you will.” She feels him lean down to press a kiss to the top of her head and her eyes close as pure warmth fills her all the way to her toes. How does he make her feel like this? So adored. So  _ cherished _ . It’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before and it’s so damn intoxicating. “We can talk more in the morning. But now it’s time to sleep,” he adds. She can’t help but smile to herself at that. He seems so comfortable and at ease with her--miles away from the always vigilant...well...vigilante she’d known before. And she has to admit--she’s beginning to feel exactly the same way about him. 

Felicity stifles a yawn and lets her eyes close, snuggling in even closer to Oliver and reveling in the content sigh he gives her in return. She falls asleep to the steady beat of his heart under her ear and, for the first time in over a week, she doesn’t wake up for anything for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Felicity's memories were supposed to go back to the Mirakuru siege in season two. However, after watching the majority of the Olicity scenes throughout season two, I realized they were already touchy-feely, flirty-flirty by like...the third episode of that season. So I had to go back to season one to get them to a place where Felicity would have felt awkward and confused by Oliver's affection and touches. Talk about endgame.


End file.
